Precarious Silence
by Frosty Poop
Summary: Ron:Hermione alternate universe. This is the revised edition that is currently in progress. Stop by and read a few of my edited chapters! I assure you, it is much improved.
1. Chapter 1

**-waves- Why, hello there! You seem to have wandered into one of my older stories. Not a good choice, I assure you…but don't leave just yet! I have decided to rewrite this story. Maybe this will be an ongoing process, so in 10 years, it will be a masterpiece!! (doubtful)**

**On to the plot summary! **

**Take yourself outside the boundaries of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter for one moment…**

**This is an alternate dimension. Ron and Hermione have never met...there is no Hogwarts or Platform 9 ¾. It is a new town with new people. Some familiar names may pop up here and there, and some of the relationships will be changed, but don't get your panties in a wad--all will be fine. **

**Enjoy!**

- - -

**Precarious Silence**

- - -

_Chapter 1_

"I hate you. You are the only reason I'm not happy!"

"Me? Oh, blame _everything_ on me!"

The slam of a door echoed through the house and shook the pictures in the hallway. Hermione sat in the corner of her room, knees clutched tightly to her chest. She hummed softly to herself. She hated the noise, the constant shouting…she'd been enduring her family's fights silently for the past month, but her sanity was beginning to crack beneath the tension.

"It's all your fault! If you hadn't let dad die...if you hadn't…" Ginny was sobbing violently inside her room.

"Don't ever mention that again do you hear me?" Hermione's mother gripped Ginny's doorknob and twisted it back and forth. "I said _do you hear me_? Open this door instantly, young lady!"

Hermione clenched her fists, digging her nails into the sleeves of her shirt. She took a deep breath, stood, and grabbed her coat. Her mother looked up as she stepped into the hall.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where? It's nearly dark."

Hermione didn't respond. She stuffed her feet into a pair of Ginny's tight sneakers and bolted out the door.

"Hermione! Get back in here. I will not allow this family to fall apart!" Her mother's sobs followed her down the porch steps.

_Away_…_away_…her mind screamed as she ran full speed into the immense wheat field.

She could barely see through the tears that clouded her vision, but it didn't matter. She knew the way so well.

A familiar worn out path led to a small clearing in the pine trees. The setting sun peeked through low-lying bushes and glinted on the polished surface of a tombstone. It had only been a month since his death, and the grave already looked abandoned and forgotten. She sunk down to the ground angrily pulling up the weeds that had started to grow on the mound of red dirt.

"You have no idea how much trouble you've caused us by leaving…" Hermione rubbed her nose on the back of her sleeve. She looked up and read the engraved writing for the millionth time.

**Granger**

**1953-2004**

Her mother had spared no expense on words.

"A word, a phrase, anything would have sufficed. It's unfair to keep you a secret from passersby." She sighed, letting her anger pass as she took in her surroundings. "But I love it here…"

She felt truly at peace here among the pines. The pine needles rested in a pile next to her father's headstone, and she fell back, stretching her arms towards the sunset-colored clouds.

Hermione closed her stinging eyes and listened to the soft breeze as it filled her nose with a sweet scent.

Something cold splashed against her face. She opened her eyes and gasped; dark luminous clouds had covered the sunset in a matter of moments. Or had she slept…?

All around she heard the sound of rain droplets hitting leaves and the ground beside her. A great roll of thunder shook the ground. The sky was lit up by a streak of lightning. It was all a beautiful symphony! She stood as the wind began to blow fiercely, and she gasped as the clouds suddenly opened to release torrents of freezing rain.

Two flashes lit up the sky simultaneously…

_CRACK._

Orange sparks lit up the dark clearing. She froze. A giant oak creaked as flames began to lick the splintered wood. Time seemed to slow; the bark blackened in the sudden blaze that consumed it, and the tall flames hissed in the driving sheets of rain

Hermione suddenly gasped for air as gray smoke filled her nose and mouth. Another SNAP and loud creaking reverberated through the air. Panicked, she took a step backwards and suddenly tripped over one of the oak's roots. The breath was knocked from her lungs as she collided with the hard ground. Wind cleared the smoke, but her stomach clenched tightly when her vision was restored.

The tree began to topple, its heart weakened greatly by the flames. The gravestone lay in its path…

"Father…NO!" Her words were whisked away with the wind.

The immense trunk shuddered and groaned as it began its descent. The vision of a crumbled gravestone entered her thoughts, but soon all she knew was darkness and pain as two arms lifted her from the mud.

- - -

-**sigh- I feel so much better, don't you?**

**Well, you should, too because I love refurbishing my old stories. It leads to new possibilities and a better enjoyment overall. I hope you won't mind re-reading this story…and I'm not expecting huge feedback. This is mostly just fun for me.**

**So…deal with it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Enter chapter 2 edited!**

**Please let me know how I'm doing.**

- - -

**Precarious Silence**

- - -

_Chapter 2_

A muffled silence filled Hermione's thoughts. Her ears buzzed suddenly as if the cotton had fallen from her ears. Somewhere above her head rain was tapping on a tin roof. As her mind stirred with thoughts, a tingling sensation sparked beneath her skin. A finger twitched. Testing each muscle, starting with her big toe, she found that everything seemed to be in working order, but as she moved, the pain returned. It shot through her head and stomach with the same force she had been bestowed by the tree.

Her eyes opened slowly as tears rushed forth. Hot flames of a fire came into focus, as did the rest of the room. She began studying her surroundings, with no help from her tears or the fading light of day. Nevertheless, the pain eased slightly with the distraction.

Beneath her were the lumpy cushions of an old couch and above her were two tattered quilts, their heat nearly stifling. Her eyes scanned the surrounding walls of what appeared to be a log cabin. Behind crooked paintings and photographs were the warped oak logs squeezed between layers of cement. Shelves covered the wall with the fireplace. Books had been replaced with various trinkets and knickknacks on many of the shelves; she was determined to investigate later.

Between the couch and the fire was a small coffee table piled with old yellowed newspapers and wood chips, some of them still pierced by rusty nails. The remnants of a dilapidated bird house was hidden beneath a layer of dust; the sides were beaten and chipped as if it were tied to a string and tossed about the room with reckless abandon.

The feeling had been creeping up on her slowly…but she knew someone was watching her. She looked down and met the intense gaze of a black cat. Its orange eyes brightened as the pupils dilated to their fullest extent when the fire crackled. The animal had its ears perked, prepared to pounce at the slightest noise. Hermione felt those immense eyes would soon swallow her…but the animal blinked. Shocked, she now found herself meeting an amber gaze.

Did they just…? No, that's impossible. Hermione silently argued with herself as she studied the cat's whiskered face.

_Blink._ Emerald green. _Blink._ Olive. _Blink._ Gold.

She had to take a closer look at this animal. Hermione took her hand and scratched at the blanket, moving it up and down. It was a game she played with her cat Knickers. Like an animal watching its dinner scurry across the floor, it concentrated solely on that small movement under the blanket, the pupils growing larger to capture everything. Its whiskers twitched and it stepped back and forth on its hind legs. The cat's muscles tightened and it pounced landing on the blanket, claws drawn.

The cat froze as it waited for Hermione to move. She slowly brought her hand from under the blanket and reached towards the creature. In a heartbeat, it had her hand between its claws, mouth opened and teeth bared.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, startled.

The cat looked at her face and then licked her hand softly with its sandpaper tongue.

"You're so pretty…" She stroked the cat's silky fur as it began to purr beneath her fingers.

She enjoyed the company. The presence of this animal meant she wasn't completely alone. _This house…_her eyes squinted in the darkness. Something shiny caught her eye; a round, glowing object sat on top of the mantel. She strained her eyes in the firelight to see the shimmering object, but the sun had set long ago and the flames were dying down.

Suddenly, the cat on her lap protested loudly as something wrenched it out of Hermione's lap. She gasped and looked up at the silhouette of a dark figure that stood over her, each arm wrapped underneath the meowing cat. The figure stood out of the light's reach, and she could only see the cat's neon green eyes staring at her. She saw the animal struggle to be let loose, but the figure held it tightly and silently.

"Oh please," Hermione pleaded in a hoarse whisper after she regained her breath, "let her go…"

The man, or so she assumed, leaned forward to set the cat gently on her lap. His face was illuminated for a brief moment, but Hermione could see nothing but his eyes. Her heart still beat loudly, but it calmed a little with the purring cat sitting warmly on her legs. The dark figure paused for one moment and then left without one word.

Blood pounded in her ears as she watched him disappear into the shadows. She paused and barely breathed as she heard a door close with a _click_. Breathing out quickly, she began to panic.

"Where am I?" she spoke softly to the purring animal. "What am I to do?" Her heart slowed its frantic tempo as she gazed into the smiling, whiskered face on her lap.

"I wonder if mother misses me…" She suddenly felt a tightening in her stomach.

_They must be worried sick…I wonder how many days I have been here?_ A tear fell down her cheek. Her whole body shook violently as she gripped the quilt with white knuckles and bit her lip to silence her sobs. The black cat jumped up on top of the couch and walked across it, settling down on the pillow beside her face. Hermione reached up and ran her fingers across the animal's stomach. She put her arms around the warm creature, hiding her wet face in its soft fur.

Her head hurt, her side pained her…and crying did not aid in making her feel the slightest bit better.

She heard the creak of a door and looked up to see the dark figure standing in the doorway. She stopped abruptly and the cat looked up as well. He started to walk toward her and she quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. He simply walked past and in to a door that led to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on a light. Dishes clacked together by the sink, and she did not know how long she waited before he approached her again, this time with a steaming bowl of soup.

He walked slowly and set the bowl in front of her on the coffee table. He sat at one end of the table with his back to the fire. At the moment, she was grateful the shadows hid his face. She was more interested in the food. Her stomach growled, but she was wary of this stranger.

He and the cat were silent, both sets of eyes trained to her face as if waiting for her to make the first move. The boy nodded his head at the bowl and Hermione sat up as quickly as she could without causing too much pain. She reached her hands out and grasped the bowl with shaking fingers. Closing her eyes, she savored the first bite, the warmth spreading to her toes. Frantically, she stuffed her mouth with massive amounts of soup, not caring if she slurped or splashed.

As she came to the last spoonful, she looked up and was startled to find the boy's gaze resting on her. With a shaking hand, she wiped her dripping chin, wondering absently what he had planned for her. He stood and turned his back to her, reaching down to pull a log from a small pile by the fire. Without glancing back, he tossed the log into the dying flames. The sudden flare of life in the fire gave Hermione an opportunity to study his profile. His nose and cheeks were covered with freckles, as were his pale neck and hands. He stood in front of the heat, not bothered in the slightest by his long-sleeve black shirt and dark pants. His red hair glistened in the firelight, its vibrant color a stark contrast to his nearly transparent skin.

"Mreeeeaorw…" the cat protested loudly, breaking the silence.

The boy turned, his deep-set blue eyes glancing with a smirk to the purring creature on her lap.

She glanced up and down his figure once more, noting to herself that even if he had plans for violence, he wouldn't be able to do much damage. He looked almost malnourished.

"Hello." Her voice startled him, and he nearly dropped the fire poker. "What's your name? My name's Hermione Granger. You know, it was awfully nice of you to save me…I don't know how you did it, but…you did…" She cleared her throat in the silence that ensued, "Didn't you?"

He nodded slowly, setting the poker aside with a loud _clank._

"What is your name?" she asked a little more forcefully this time. Silence made her uncomfortable.

He had an expression of surprise and simply shook his head mouthing the words _I can't, I can't…_

"Oh…" She didn't really understand what he meant, so he frowned and put his hand against his throat.

He stood in the middle of the room tapping his chin thoughtfully. Then he snapped his fingers, obviously remembering something and came back with an inkbottle and quill. He ripped a page of newspaper from the table and paid no attention to the nails and wood chips that scattered across the floor. He quickly started to write on the margins of the paper, the quill scratching loudly in the noiseless room.

The cat looked over, fascinated, and the mischievous expression reappeared in the yellow eyes. The cat watched intently as the feather moved up and down while the boy wrote furiously. Hermione tried her best to suppress a giggle, but the boy heard and looked up spotting the cat. His eyes twinkled as he twitched the feather around playfully. The cat shook its hips and pounced on top of the quill pen, missing by only a few inches and landing on the floor close to the hearth. The boy grinned at Hermione and quickly replaced the cat to its place on her lap.

Hermione waited patiently as he continued to write for some time. She was forced to hold the cat firmly as it twitched anxiously with every move of the feather.

He finished and handed the paper to her.

_Hermyonee? I don't know how to spell your name, as I am a little rusty in my writing. Such an interesting name, yours is! There are so many things I wish to tell you, but I am afraid that I have not the voice to speak. I have no memory of losing it, but my late guardian told me I must have been born this way. I have lived by myself for the past 6 years, and I am turning 17 at the end of this season._

(There was a scribble here where the cat had pounced and caused the pen to scratch the paper) _The cat basically adopted me when I first moved here. She is very unique, as you have already discovered, from the color of her eyes. I don't know her real name, so I just call her Cat. _

_You've been resting for two days. It was only by chance that I was wandering close by when the storm began (I was out fighting the elements to catch my supper). I heard your screams but was too late to pull you away before the tree fell. It was the gravestone that saved you, not me. _

_I'm sorry about earlier. It's hard not to scare someone when you can't give them some sort of warning. Oh and I almost forgot, my name is Ronald Weasley, but you can just call me Ron._

After reading, Hermione answered as best she could from the jumbled thoughts that covered the empty margins of the newspaper.

"Well, you spelled it close enough." She smiled, "And you don't need to feel bad about not getting to me in time, I'd still be beneath that tree if it weren't for you…" she flushed slightly, unable to piece her words together. "I'm so sorry about your voice, it must be very difficult—but you mentioned your _late_ guardian, so is it safe for me to assume that he or she is…dead?"

He nodded his head solemnly, studying her face.

She combed her immensely bushy hair from her eyes as she continued nervously.

"I want to thank you again. I just don't know how to put it into words of how thankful I am and I just--" She paused here and could not suppress a yawn. "If I talk too much you can just tell me—I mean write it down for me or something because I really don't know when to stop…" her eyes were getting droopy, but she forced them open and stared at Ron. "I aaaahh--" she stopped talking and pressed a hand to her forehead.

She heard shuffling and watched Ron's face go in and out of focus. Her side suddenly felt as if needles were being forced into it. Cat jumped up in alarm as Hermione attempted to curl into a ball beneath the covers, only making the pain worse. Someone's hands were forcing her to stay still and she struggled for a moment, but the hands were too strong. She opened her tightly clenched eyes and the room was spinning wildly.

She felt a hand cupping her chin and another held something to her lips, pouring sour liquid down her throat. She choked for a moment, but then her vision slowly cleared. Ron kneeled on the floor, one hand cupping her chin and the other holding the cup. His eyes scanned her face for a moment before he checked her temperature with the back of his free hand.

"I--" she began, but Ron silenced her by standing and tucking the covers about her neck.

He gently closed her eyes with his fingers. Hermione felt the pressure of four dainty cat feet on her stomach, and soon she was being lulled to sleep by soft purring.

- - -

**Good, no? Maybe, but at least it's better than the last chapter.**

Readers**: You better keep this up--**

Oh shut up and review…


	3. Chapter 3

**Welcome once again to Precarious Silence! Only this time, you are receiving the new and improved version (nix on the improved...?). **

**In any case, I have decided to edit these chapters (I am ashamed of them!).**

**Why, you ask?**

**FOR FUN!!**

**Read on, dear friends.**

- - -

**Precarious Silence**

- - -

_Chapter 3_

Hermione awoke slowly to see bright sunshine beaming in through the windows. A slight breeze was blowing in from an open window. She sat up slowly and something crinkled on the blankets. She picked up a note written in scratchy handwriting.

_Hermyonee-_

_I've gone hunting. I understand that you must miss your family very much, and I would be disappointed if you left, but please don't feel like you have to stay. There is nothing that could keep you here, well, excepting the cat…and me…and even if you do leave, maybe you could visit some other time? The door is wide open for you. I should be back in a few hours or so…depending on when you read this._

_-Ron_

She smiled slightly and felt herself flush. _He didn't want her to leave. _Hermione thought hard…._ Or should I leave? Mother and Ginny must be very worried. _ Hermione looked down and saw that the cat had curled up against her chest during the night. Cat was fast asleep, her colorful eyes closed gracefully. Her whiskers twitched slightly with a dream. Hermione was a sucker for cats.

_No, I don't suppose I will leave yet._ She cradled Cat's small furry head in her hands. The animal opened her blue eyes and gazed up at Hermione. Cat stood up and arched her back, yawning with lingering sleep. She glanced at Hermione with yellow eyes and promptly jumped from the couch.

Hermione stood up and stretched, wincing as her side throbbed. She walked slowly towards the hearth and stared at the dying embers of a fire. Shivering suddenly, she looked down to see that she was wearing a simple white gown. Her face burned at the thought of Ron changing her clothes. She looked inside her shirt quickly—_Oh good…undergarments are still there._ Her modesty was always a problem, and she wondered absently if her face would ever cease blushing.

Her other clothes were nowhere to be found; she figured it wouldn't be harmful if she took a look around the place. Cat was close by her heels as she walked into the kitchen and began going through the cabinets. As she opened one underneath the sink, Cat called out loudly and rubbed up against her knees with magenta eyes and the sweetest face she could muster. Hermione spotted a cat food bag near the refrigerator.

"Oh you little suck-up!" she said lovingly as she scratched behind the cat's ears. She grabbed the bag and looked around for a dish or a bowl.

"Where does he feed you, little one?" Hermione looked down at Cat, who started to claw at her legs.

"OW! That's no way to get food…"

After she detached the animal's claws from the gown, she looked around until she found a simple tea saucer and a bowl sitting in the corner. She poured some of the food into the empty dish and filled the other bowl with water. As Cat munched happily on her food, Hermione went to explore the rest of the house.

She went to a door next to the hearth and discovered a small storage room. There was a large sink and hanging on the side were her clothes. She went over quickly and reached out to touch them, but recoiled. They were covered in blood. She felt sick to her stomach from the stench. Hermione knew she could not leave them there to mildew; she had to wash them. She plugged her nose and quickly threw the soaked shirt and pants into the sink, filling it halfway with cold water. The smell lessened as the clothes were submerged in the water. Hermione would leave the clothes to soak for a little bit. She dried her hands on a towel leaning on a hook to one side of the sink.

She looked down to see Cat walking in the door licking her lips. She sat down and gazed up at Hermione with curious golden eyes. Hermione smiled as she looked around the room. There were some old dusty boxes piled in one corner. It was cluttered with odd trinkets and statues with sneering faces. There was a skylight in the ceiling that, though rather dusty, let in just enough light. Directly beneath the aged and cracking skylight sat a piano. She gasped—her fingers itched to touch its yellowed keys. Her eyes watered at the memories so many years ago of the concerts she used to perform for her mother…and her father. A tear rolled down her cheek gracefully, disappearing into her bushy hair.

Hermione walked slowly towards the antique piano and stroked its keys. She blew the dust away and wiped off an inch-thick layer from the top. As she did so, something fell off and clinked as it hit the floor. She looked down and saw a little tool that she had to think hard to recognize. Then it hit her: it was a piano tuner! She had read The Piano, A Classical Instrument: Maintenance and Performance in eighth grade to learn about tuning all types of pianos. Hermione put her reading to the test and opened the piano, sneezing as clouds of dust swirled around her. She played a note, listening to the fluctuation in its intonation as she adjusted the wire inside. She was thrilled and giggled, beside herself with joy. She did not know how long she spent tuning and retuning, but she loved every minute.

Once she was done, she sat on the rickety piano bench and stared silently at the empty music rack. She willed her fingers to remember a song she had played so many years ago. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers fall into a familiar chord, listening to the sweet harmonies. She opened her eyes and her fingers moved swiftly. After she watched with fascination and awe of remembering, Hermione started to sing softly.

"Hello darkness, my old friend,  
I've come to talk with you again.  
Because a vision softly creeping,  
Left its seeds while I was sleeping.  
And the vision that was planted in my brain,  
Still remains,  
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone,  
Narrow streets of cobblestone.  
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,  
I turned my collar to the cold and damp.  
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light,  
That split the night,  
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw  
Ten thousand people, maybe more.  
People talking without speaking--"

Hermione looked up suddenly to see Ron standing next to her. The words she had just sung rang in her ears..._talking without speaking. _She looked at Ron and knew, heaven knows why, that she had to play this song...for him. Her fingers fumbled to find their place again.

"...People hearing without listening,  
People writing songs that voices never share  
And no one dare  
Disturb the sound of silence.

'Fools,' said I, 'You do not know,  
Silence like a cancer grows.  
Hear my words that I might teach you,  
Take my arms that I might reach you.'  
But my words like silent raindrops fell,  
And echoed  
In the wells of silence.

And the people bowed and prayed,  
To the neon god they made.  
And the sign flashed out its warning,  
In the words that it was forming.  
And the sign said, 'The words of the prophets  
are written on the subway walls,  
And tenement halls.'  
And whisper'd in the sounds…of…of--"

She choked on the last word and could sing no more. A sob rose in her throat and she reached up to cover her mouth. The tears fell onto her hand and dripped down her elbow. She breathed through her nose heavily and moved her hand to look up at Ron.

"I'm so sorry…I just…that was my dad's favorite song." She watched silently as a single tear dropped from Ron's light blue eye and onto his freckled face.

They sat there looking at each other for what seemed like eternity. It was strange how little she knew about him, yet she trusted him with her life. Hermione unwillingly broke her gaze from his as the cat clawed at her leg and fussed loudly for attention. She sighed and picked up the cat, placing her on her lap. The room was silent except for Cat's incessant purring.

A noise in the leaves outside caught her attention—the cat jumped from her lap, startled. It wasn't the sound of a passing creature...there were footsteps.

"I'll be right back…or…you can come with me. Well, this is your house…" Hermione stuttered awkwardly, but to avoid embarrassing herself more, she simply walked out of the room without another word.

She looked out the window and gasped loudly, dropping to the floor instantly. Ron followed suit and crouched to the floor, but his face was puzzled. He looked at Hermione with a question in his eyes.

"It's my mother…and she has the police with her!"

--

**Oh, what now? Buuuuurn…I could stop writing the story right here and now. **

Angry mob: You wouldn't dare!

**Put down the pitchforks and maybe I'll edit some other chapters...otherwise, I'm through!**

AM: Yes, we're sorry. –bows down in reverence-

**That's more like it. **

**Reviews?**


	4. Chapter 4

**The writing is improved...but of course, the plot still remains as weak and feeble as it was before.**

**But having fun is more important, right?**

**...right?**

**-sigh- You are just too hard to please.**

- - -

**Precarious Silence**

**- - -**

_Chapter 4_

Hermione clenched her fists in frustration. "What do we do? What do we do?! She can't find me."

Ron searched her face for a moment, but she knew what he was looking for.

"I prefer you ten times over to that woman." Her cheeks burned. She was shocked that those words had just escaped her lips...but she found they were entirely genuine.

"She's got to be around her somewhere!" A loud voice echoed across the clearing—Hermione's heart beat in her throat.

Ron grasped her wrist and looked about frantically for an escape. She watched him scan the room. She could practically see the thought processes behind his pale eyes as they occurred. The crusty window to the side was painted shut and impossible to open, and it would bring too much attention to that side of the house if they attempted to break it. The back door was probable, but that required moving through the kitchen and the mudroom, which had a squeaky door—thus bringing more attention to themselves than necessary.

Cat walked by with her tail high in the air and drew Hermione's gaze towards the storage room. Cat jumped onto the piano and looked up at the skylight curiously, then back at her.

Hermione understood immediately and crawled towards the piano, ignoring Ron's frantic tug at her sleeve. She pointed to the skylight, but he seemed hesitant to believe it would work.

"It's our only option!" She whispered to him hoarsely.

The footsteps had stopped in front of the cabin, and he moved to shut the door to the storage room as quietly as possible. He seemed to realize how fruitless it was to argue at the moment.

Ron stepped on top of the piano and helped Hermione up behind him, the piano wobbling slightly under the weight. There was a loud _BANG_ in the other room and a loud, obnoxious voice echoed in the small cabin.

"I know she's here somewhere…she ran off without telling me, and I'm sure she's been kidnapped. I'll search every cabin, nook and cranny in this whole bloody forest if I have to!" Hermione's entire form trembled. She was willfully disobeying her mother—and the change in the woman was frightening.

"Can't you move any faster? There are only so many places to hide in here."

"Don't worry ma'am. We'll find her." The man's voice resounded just inches from the door.

"The fire's not been out for long. Looks about--" a different voice spoke and paused, "...they're still here."

The doorknob rattled suddenly, and Hermione held her breath. Ron reached up quickly and slid back the skylight window. It scraped against the tin roof, but Hermione's mother spoke loud enough to hide the sound.

"Is she in there? Open the door! That kidnapper can have done so many terrible things to my baby!"

Ron traced his fingers along the edge of the window and then deftly pulled himself through the rectangular the opening.

One of the men spoke up, "Are you sure that this is the right cabin? We don't know if we can legally search this house…we don't have a warra--"

"This is the only house for miles. She must be in here!" She pounded her firsts against the door, and Hermione gasped—then covered her mouth, but it was too late.

"HERMIONE! Dear GOD, she must be hurt!"

Ron took advantage of her mother's incessant beating on the door and screams to pull Hermione onto the roof. Cat managed to get out in one giant leap. As Hermione gripped the window lining for balance, she knocked her knuckles against the window. She reached out to grab it, but it slipped off of the metal roof, scraping down the slant of the roof until it fell inside and onto the piano. Hermione and Ron froze as they sat together on the roof, hardly breathing.

The banging stopped suddenly, and the men's voices could be heard.

"Stand back, I'm breaking the door."

Cat blinked once at Ron and then jumped onto the piano. Hermione opened her mouth to call out, but Ron placed his hand over her lips to silence her.

She had no time to think anything else as Ron took her hand and pulled her to the edge of the roof, away from the window. There was a loud CRASH and she could hear the door falling from its hinges and to the floor.

"FREEZE!" There was a click of a gun being cocked. "Blimey! It's just a cat. I told you this house was empty, George."

"Oh? Then how do you explain the smoke I saw when we came in here in the first place? Besides, I could smell--"

He was interrupted by a harsh scream. Ron took this moment to grab Hermione and jump to the ground. The loud _thump_ of their landing went unnoticed by those inside, whose ears were being filled by piercing screams.

"MY BABY! My Hermione has been killed!"

Hermione gasped…._the clothes in the sink…_

Ron lifted himself from the leaves and held out his hand to help her up.

"Ooooooh the misery…. Why me? Oooh…" She was sobbing, her words no longer recognizable.

"Don't touch those, ma'am! That's valuable evidence!"

"Evidence? _Evidence?_ My daughter has been in this house with a murderer and all you can talk about is _evidence?_"

Ron motioned emphatically for her to move, but she was frozen in place. They could run away...they could leave all this behind right now. All she had to do was get up and _run_...

"Ma'am, you don't know if it's a murder--"

"I know full well that it is!"

"But why would the murderer bother soaking her clothes? I mean…wouldn't he just dispose of them?"

"Ooooh…" Hermione's mother moaned loudly, but she was easily talked over now that her voice was hoarse.

"Hmm…yes…very strange…" the other man remarked.

The voices continued, but Hermione remained frozen in place until she was startled when Cat landed beside her. The leaves crunched loudly now in the silence.

"What was that?" Someone cried out, and all was immediately still, even her mother.

Neither of them breathed.

"The cat's gone, sir!"

"Nobody said that the cat had to stay, did they?"

"No, but that could have been valuable evidence--"

"Evidence from a cat? What were you going to do, hold it under a light and ask it questions? That's--"

"I think they went out the roof!" Her mother suggested among the arguing men.

Ron's face showed his despair as he looked down at her.

"That could have been anything. That skylight looks ancient anyway...it was probably just the cat."

_You could still turn back. Come with me and you leave everything behind...but you have to decide now._

"I want you to go check it out." Her mother ordered. Her tone was clear--it was not an option.

"Suit yourself. Bob, you go check it out."

The man's grumbling and footsteps receded as he left the room to go through the front door.

Without thinking twice, Hermione took Ron's outstretched hand and was pulled to her feet. She barely knew him, but she owed him her life.

She would see her mother again, but not now...not so soon.

Her head throbbed slightly; running would only open the wounds. "Carry me," she mouthed to Ron.

He nodded and lifted her easily in his thin arms.

"_Freeze_!" a gun cocked behind Ron's head.

His muscles tensed around Hermione's body. She winced—her bandages were coming loose. Ron took a step forward, his back still towards the officer.

"I SAID FREEZE!"

Ron looked into Hermione's eyes. Silent communication passed between them; she knew what he had planned.

Ron swung her around, and Hermione kicked the officer in the stomach. The officer fell to the ground on his knees from the impact, the gun falling out of his hands into the leaves. Ron leaned down in an attempt to grab it, but she stopped him.

"We don't need it! GO!"

"Bob?" Raised voices came from inside, and Ron took it as his cue; he lifted his feet and took off with surprising speed.

"NO!" Hermione's mother screeched behind them.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly.

"Stop them!"

BANG! The sound echoed eerily in the forest clearing. Everything was absolutely still for a split second.

Ron faltered, almost dropping Hermione. She screamed as the front of his shirt began to drip with blood from his right shoulder. The bullet missed her by mere inches.

"Ron…" she said softly.

"My daughter--that man has my daughter! Why isn't he dead? Shoot him again!"

"NO! We might hit the girl—stop!"

Hermione looked over Ron's shoulder to see her mother fighting with George for a gun.

Ron was gasping for air, and saw that he was going pale.

"I'm not ready to leave you..." Hermione whispered into his ear before she stood suddenly.

She took his hand and pulled him to his feet, grabbing onto his waist before he lost his balance. Gripping onto him with all her strength, she forced herself to move one foot in front of the other.

"I don't believe it...they're getting away!"

There were sounds of a struggle, but she wouldn't look back now.

"Hermione! Stop right now!"

Ron grasped her shoulder, his face twisting with pain. A black shadow ran past them. _Cat_. She pranced in front of them, and suddenly Ron picked up speed. His legs brought him close enough to touch Cat's tail, but she stayed just out of reach. Ron seemed to barely breath, yet his body worked intensely. Her sides heaved, the world spinning as the pain spread from her wounds.

This was too much…too soon to be doing all this running….

In one great motion, Ron swooped Hermione up into his arms. She yelped in surprise and looked into his face. Color was creeping up his neck and he seemed to be in a trance. She stared at him intently and tried to ignore the sickening green flying past them.

A house loomed in the distance…no, two houses. A house and a barn.

Hermione did not chance a look behind, but there seemed to be no trace of the three figures. Cat ran up the white steps of a house and disappeared. Ron stumbled and fell, but did not drop Hermione. He gripped her tighter. He sat on his knees and tears streamed down his face. His hot tears fell onto Hermione's face and mixed in with her own. She held and held and held him...

"My dears…my dears come inside…" a soft voice spoke behind her and she felt a cool hand on her back, but she did not want to tear away from Ron. She wanted to stay. To hold him until all his pain would disappear.

"You must come inside or they will find you both. You'll be taken away." The woman spoke once more, and Hermione allowed herself to be pulled out of Ron's arms. He suddenly went limp. She tore herself from the woman's arms and caught him before he fell back into the grass.

"Help—help me…" She pleaded the blurry figure. Tears blocked her vision until all she could see was the glow of the sun against the white painted steps.

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	5. Chapter 5

**I'm certainly not promising anything with this one. Let me know what you think of the "twist."**

**It's quite different from the unedited version...and I dearly hope it's better.**

**In any case, I demand that you enjoy it! Right this minute!  
**

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**Precarious Silence**

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_Chapter 5_

She blocked the merciless sun that glared into his eyes with her hand.

"Everything will be okay." The words whispered past her lips calmly, but her heart thundered fiercely in her chest. She wanted to show him confidence, but the red stain on his shirt seemed to grow with every breath he took.

The tears came without warning, and she wiped them away irritably. This boy had sacrificed everything for her. Was she worth his life? His body tensed; his face had _agony_ written all over it.

"I should have left you. I should have gone when I had the chance. You wouldn't be here now, bleeding as you are..." She was a stupid foolish girl. "I wish we had never met--"

A cold hand gripped hers tightly. Ron's eyes were pleading as he shook his head emphatically.

"No, you're right." Her tears dripped onto his soiled shirt, and she suddenly realized how attached she was to the boy in her arms. "Ron, listen to me."

He was grasping her hand intensely with white knuckles—his pain was more important than hers at the moment. His eyes began to glaze over and drift from her face.

"Ron, you can't go! You can't—I need more time, I..." Her voice faded as she watched him struggle for words that would not be spoken. His hand relaxed its death grip on her wrist.

The world around her disappeared in a blur of tears and the shadow of an approaching figure. A man towered above her, his head blocking the sun. His dark silhouette offered no hints as to his appearance.

"Where is the wound?" He turned towards a slim figure beside him. Hermione squinted in the light, unable to recognize the woman's fair skin and waist-length black hair. The woman put a hand on her lower back but did not speak. Had she met this woman elsewhere? There was a feeling...

The man kneeled beside Ron's shivering form and attempted to remove him from Hermione's grasp. She struggled to find her voice, but could only stare.

"Ma'am, I'm a doctor. It is of supreme importance that you _let go_ if you want me to help."

He sighed heavily and wrenched Ron from her grip. Ron's head lolled forward limply and his eyes were shut. The man turned him over gently, and Hermione felt like her heart had skipped a beat. His white shirt was now crimson.

"We need to get him inside. Can you help me move him?"

Hermione nodded, dimly aware of an extra pair of hands that joined in beside her.

They lifted Ron's limp form and carried him up the porch steps and into a small guest bedroom just inside the front door. She stood beside the bed, staring helplessly into Ron's increasingly pale face. The doctor suddenly held a syringe in his hand and prepared to dose the unconscious patient.

"Wait!" Needles. Hermione felt the room beginning to spin.

"It's only to lessen the pain—Oh, please, take her somewhere else?" He looked pleadingly at the dark haired figure standing next to the door.

The lady took Hermione's shoulders and led them quietly from the room. The woman looked down at their hands, and Hermione gasped. They were completely covered in blood. Without a word, she was led down the hall, but her guide seemed lost as they peeked aimlessly into various rooms until they found a bathroom.

"You don't live here, do you?" Hermione watched as the woman fiddled with the handles at the sink. She seemed unable to decide which way they should turn.

Taking that as her answer, Hermione turned the faucet on full blast. After an endless circling of red down the drain, they finally dried their pruney fingers and ventured into the hallway once more. She immediately made her way for the guest room but was pulled in the opposite direction towards another section of the house. They both stopped, each taken aback at the massive room in front of them.

Marble counter tops and oak cabinets surrounded one corner. A buffet counter created a semi-circle in front of the kitchen area. The ceiling towered above them, a sparkling candelabra hanging at its peak. Wide windows shed light on an extensive living room area with various couches and bookshelves. Everything seemed eerily quiet and unused, rather lonely.

Without warning, the woman took Hermione's hand and took them through a door that led to the rear of a wrap-around porch. The breeze invited them to sit on a creaking porch swing, and the sun greeted them cheerfully—too happy for Hermione's taste at the moment. She would much rather be standing beside Ron...but for the moment, she was willing to content herself with this silent companion.

Hermione was finally able to study the mysterious woman. She was not very tall, only slightly taller than Hermione. Straight black hair reached down to her waist. Her skin was pale, but she had an oddly natural beauty about her high cheekbones and shapely nose. Her slim figure and toned legs were stunning, but what stood out most were her bright, clear eyes. Hermione gasped and discovered what made her so recognizable.

_Blink_. Blue. _Blink_. Periwinkle.

"Cat…?" She felt her insides jump as the woman turned towards her.

She smiled a very catlike smile.

"But it can't be! How...?"

"It's rather a long story." The words seemed to come with effort. "I'm not used to speaking," she paused, swallowing and seeming to gather every ounce of strength to talk, "so it will not be quick."

"I don't mind at all." Hermione gazed into Cat's eyes for a moment, wondering what twist of imagination could have conjured the dream she was in.

Before she realized she'd begun to cry, she was wrapped in Cat's arms. She had no doubt in her mind, then, that this was definitely Cat—she could feel warmth radiating from her and a strange sense of comfort that only cats possess.

"There, there…it's alright. Everything will be ok."

"How do you _know?_" Hermione said through her sobs.

"Oh, I know a lot of things. I know that if I hadn't run in front of the both of you during that chase, your fates would have turned in a different direction."

"The chase… The police! My—my mother!" Hermione sat up suddenly, but Cat grabbed her by the wrist.

"I do know this: they will not be here for another two days. I led them down a different path."

"How?" This would soon become her default answer.

"We cats have tricks of our own…" She winked changing one of her eyes to dark brown while the other was a rosy pink.

Hermione managed a small smile and leaned against Cat, thoughts of Ron popping into her head once more.

"Why can't he speak?" Hermione said suddenly. She felt Cat shudder slightly.

"Do…do you really want to know?"

Hermione paused and thought for a moment. "Yes. And I want to know about you, too."

"Well, I suppose we have enough time. It is a lot to cover, but I'll start from the beginning.

"Amy Benson was born to an unwed mother in the slums of London on February 2, 1930. Unable to take care of her child, the mother left Amy at a nearby orphanage. There, she spent the next ten years of her life. It was an important event during the orphanage vacation to a place by the sea that changed her life forever." Cat paused, took a deep breath, and continued.

"The names of others at that place are vague shadows, but two remain stamped forever in her memory. One by the name of Dennis Bishop, that of her closest and dearest friend, and the other—Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was the bane of every nurse at that facility. He was a rebellious and spiteful child...and he was rotten to his very core. It was on her sixth birthday on a sunny and bright day that he convinced Dennis and Amy to follow him to a cave. He promised to be good, and that they'd like it immensely—but we were fools to follow him!"

Hermione sat up and gazed into Cat's face, her mouth open, head spinning. Cat was Amy Benson. "But that's not possible!"

"It was so dark..." her eyes were wide with fright, "and we could scarcely see anything but for the candle Tom carried. It was all I could do not to turn and run, but something kept me going...some morbid curiosity. And I cannot do justice to the horror we saw there! It was beyond my comprehension that a child could have created—could have..." She paused and gasped for air suddenly. "We were sworn to secrecy. He threatened to turn us into newts...always swearing he could do magic..." Tears dripped from amber eyes as her words became incomprehensible.

"But...1930? I don't believe it! You'd be at least--"

"It was part of the curse. He turned me into this poor excuse of a woman split between two bodies, but I have yet to grow old. But I _feel_ old. I feel--"

The screen door burst open suddenly. Cat jumped to her feet in surprise. It was the doctor.

"The boy's all bandaged up. He'll be fine." He wiped his brow and motioned for them to come inside.

All of her questions would have to wait. As much as she adored Cat, she couldn't replace Ron for the world.

Hermione stepped eagerly past the doctor, and Cat followed closely behind, wiping her tears on the short sleeve of the simple knee-length denim dress she wore.

She didn't wait for the man to open the door to the room. Her weary feet could not be stopped until she reached the bed. Ron's sleeping form was enough to relax her nerves, and without a second thought, she collapsed into a chair beside the bed and took his limp hand in hers. As she watched him breathe, she could feel her own hurts beginning to emerge from the cloud of worry that had been smothering them. The intense activity of before hadn't helped her previous wounds. It was a wave of pain beyond anything she'd felt so far...and she felt suddenly very fragile. Things were fading. She fought so intensely—

"I think it's time we examined you." The doctor put his hand to her forehead.

"I'm fine..." She felt a pinch in her right arm and looked down as the doctor removed a needle. "No!" She began to protest, but the damage had been done.

Warmth and relief radiated from that spot to the aching, jabbing pains all over her body. She was intensely relaxed, unable to even open an eye, but her ears still perked at the sound of Cat and the doctor's voices.

"She's awfully attached to him..." The doctor spoke. Hermione felt her hand being untangled from Ron's fingers.

"I hope we can trouble you for one night, at least. I'm eternally grateful for all your help, Doctor."

"It's no trouble at all, but he shouldn't be moved for at least a week."

Hermione felt she was slipping into further abyss. The medicine was pulling, but she wanted to listen...

"I would hate to be a burden--"

"My house is open to any who are in need of my assistance."

She was being carried.

"I didn't catch your name..." The doctor's voice vibrated in her ear as her head bounced lightly against his chest with every step.

"I didn't offer it, and neither did you."

"Have we met?"

She felt a pillow beneath her head and a cool hand on her forehead.

"I think you have more important things to attend to at the moment, Doctor..."

She fought, but the drugs won.

Sleep. Blissfully black and dreamless sleep.

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**p.p.s. And, yes, I did just give you a guilt trip.  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Welcome, welcome! This is installment number 6 of my edited chapters. I am pleased with the results and hope you can enjoy reading them as much as I'm enjoying writing them. **

**Please give some feedback (or I may threaten to stop doing this entirely). **

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**Precarious Silence**

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Chapter 6

_He is falling…falling until all he can see below him is green_. _It comes up to meet him quite suddenly—he is in a yard. He stands up and looks at the clean-cut boxwood bushes, not one leaf out of place. He gazes at the house for a moment, taking in its slightly drooping eaves and the uneven blue boards of the porch. Despite the simple build and obvious wear and tear, the house still has an air of sturdiness. Home. Ronald Weasley is home._

Ron stands up and brushes the green grass from the rear of his pants. He feels the icy gaze of Miss Catherine before he sees her. He glances towards the woman, shuddering slightly beneath the intensity of her beady eyes. He smiles amiably and waves to be polite, but she simply mumbles incoherently and continues knitting. Ron doesn't understand…but he doesn't know much for a six-year-old.

He shrugs, wondering absently if anyone in this town gets along or if they just didn't like him. The porch swing is suddenly inviting, and he runs up the steps eagerly, plopping down on the swayed wooden seat. A meow catches his attention.

"Hello, Cat!"

She jumps into his lap and purrs contentedly as he strokes her soft ears. Ron spends his summer days like this...sitting on the swing with his best friend, a cat, and watching with envy as the kids across the street played games.

"Pass me the ball, Kate!" the siblings always bickered.

"Make me!" She sticks her tongue out at her brother and sprints across the street.

Ron hastily removes Cat from his lap and leaps off of the steps. He waves his arms to show that he could catch the ball, but the little girl shakes her head and runs behind Ron, using him as a shield from her brother.

"KATE!" The brother stops at the edge of the sidewalk and stomps his foot defiantly. "Kate, you get your little butt back over here right now. You know what momma said!"

Kate sticks her tongue out at her brother, and he yells even louder.

"You know what she said! She say this family's trash! Kate, you want me to go get momma? I will. I'll tell her you bein' bad again." He turns, pretending he is going to run to the house, and Kate steps in front of Ron.

"Why can't I just stay and play with him today? Just for today?"

Her brother walks towards them briskly and grabs her arm violently.

"You know what momma said, 'I don't want y'all playin' with no witch boy.' You come on now." He turns to give Ron one mean glance and pulls his sister along after him. She turns around and gives him a solemn smile and a little wave, dropping the kickball. The brother quickly diverts her attention by stealing the ball and running over to the other screaming kids, who are complaining about the holdup to their game. It wasn't long before they had another game started.

Ron suddenly feels a deep sense of loss and angry tears begin to fall from his eyes. What did they mean calling him a 'witch boy?' He doesn't know what it means, but he does not like it one bit. He sits down on the steps and sighs. Cat's endless circles around his feet seem to cheer him up a bit. He looks up as Cat meows toward the street. His mother is a mere block from the house. She is done early today!

He wipes his tears on his sleeves and quickly runs to meet her. He gives her a brisk hug before grabbing one of the many bags of button-less garments and taking her free hand. He looks up at his mother and smiles, reveling in the silent understanding that always passed between them.

A loud _rrrrip_ was heard. He looks down to see all the garments that his mother has to mend over the weekend spread out on Mr. Bloom's bare lawn.

Mr. Joan Bloom does not like it when Ron and his mother come around. They often hear curses and insults muttered to them behind the dark screen door. The door opens the moment Ron bends down to retrieve the broken package, but his mother grips his hand tighter and he stands up to give her a questioning look. Why can't he pick it up? The clothes are getting dirty. He doesn't understand. He follows his mother's steady gaze and feels her hand shake slightly.

"You get your trash off my lawn." He stares angrily from the top of his porch steps. "You hear me, woman? I said get your _filthy_ clothes off a' my lawn!" He rears back and spits on the garments lying on the ground and lets out a deep chuckle. "You pick those up now, missus or I'll call the cops."

Ron's hand is numb from his mother's grip.

"N-no." She stutters.

Mr. Bloom comes down the stairs at a threatening pace, his beer belly jiggling above his tight belt. He steps so close that Ron can smell the stink of beer and cigars on his breath.

"What did you say, witch?" His mother's face is unreadable. Mr. Bloom chuckles again, his whole body seeming to vibrate with his wheezing laughter. His raucous voice echoes to almost every porch in the surrounding area.

"You old hag! I TOLD you to mo--" A fist lashes out suddenly and hits the man squarely in the face.

The man cried out in pain, and Ron's mother began moving quickly towards their home without a second glance back. He is quickly pushed through the door and notices his mother's paling face. Cat sits in the middle of the hallway as if she had been waiting for them. His mother stops in front of the kitchen door and turns Ron to face her.

"Ron…" she says in a weak trembling voice, "I've done something really wrong just now, you know that? The whole town's gonna be here soon, and they'll do something that will hurt me. They've been waiting for an excuse to do something for a long time...and I need you to do everything I tell you to do, alright?"

Ron nods solemnly. He doesn't understand what is going to happen next, but he knows his mother is counting on his obedience.

She glances out the window towards Mr. Bloom's house, which is now surrounded by neighbors.

"Ron, we've got to be ready for whatever happens next." She bends down and looks into his eyes. "We need to be...we need to be brave!" Tears fall down her face and she holds back sobs, her entire body trembling. She pulls herself together for a moment to speak. "Ron, when they come, I want you to go out the back door and wait in your tree. Go all the way to the top and don't budge. Do you understand me?"

Ron shakes his head and opens his mouth to say something, but loud shouting outside interrupts him. His mother bends down and kisses him on the cheek and hugs him tightly, so tight he felt the breath leave him for a moment.

"I love you, my dearest little Ron." She whispered in his ear. He does not understand…

"Now wait _just a minute_! You cannot convict her on a simple matter of witnesses! She has to have a say in this, too."

"But we ALL saw her, mayor, and it wasn't right!"

"Yeah!" They all chorus.

"Look at me—she hit me with one o' them spells!" Mr. Bloom's harsh voice resounds over the entire mob.

All of them shout and loud clanking, metal against metal, can be heard. Ron moves to peer out the window, but his mother quickly picks him up and carries him to the back door.

"Go to the tree, boy—quick! And Ron..." He pauses at the edge of the back porch and turns around to see her anguished face, "don't follow us, whatever you do." Something in her eyes tells him she really means it.

"BURN HER!"

Ron clutches the branches tightly, peering through the green leaves at an empty street. All houses have been abandoned, and a few stragglers are seen joining the mob outside.

"It's the law, mayor! We're all witnesses. Not one of us is on her side. We don't have time for a court session. I say we take action!" Miss Catherine seconds the motion with a hearty "Hear, hear!"

There is an inaudible murmur of voices, and then a loud shout of triumph rings out so loud that Ron is certain the leaves are shaking in fright. He hears a door slamming and jeering laughter. He almost cries out when they come around the corner leading his stoic mother like cattle, prodding her sharply with rakes and pitchforks. Two men on either side take a hold of each arm, and other people gather around to sneer and pull her hair or scratch her face. Mr. Bloom walks behind yelling curses and words Ron has never heard before. Such foul doings...he suddenly feels the tears on his face as they trickle down his chin.

The mob is heading toward the town center. His mother told him to stay, so he will stay, but…she so obviously needs his help. He waits to begin climbing down the tree until the huddled mass moves a little further down the street.

He reaches the bottom, and Cat is suddenly by his side, glaring up at him with fierce amber eyes.

"I gotta go Cat…I got to!" He looks over his shoulder once to see her still sitting in the same place as he walks away, following silently behind the crowd of people.

He huddles in the edge of the forest that surrounds the town center. Nothing confuses him or terrifies him more than what he sees. Screams of agony mix with jeers and triumphant laughter. He is not prepared for the image before him. He cannot scream.

His mother—his own beloved mother—is bound to a tall cross of wood. She hangs limply, and her hands are purple from the strain of the ropes round her wrists. Her clothes are tattered. Her face is ripped and bloody. But the worst of all...

"Can't cast anymore spells, can you? You're an old hag, like I always said you were!" Mr. Bloom shouts gleefully as tosses another flaming torch into the fiery brush pile at her feet.

The flames lick his mother's toes mercilessly and are beginning to like the taste of her clothes. Her head is tilted backwards, mouth open to release ear-piercing screams of pain. And as suddenly as it began, it all stops. Her screams cease, and her head falls against her chest. Ron sees a small smile, a wicked smile, cross her face for an instant….

Red, green, blue, yellow sparks—a loud BANG echoed across the street to Ron's ears and he falls back into the leaves, white light blinding his eyes. He sits up slowly, his vision returning at the pace of a snail.

Everyone is lying down as if they were all knocked back. All of them look up; terror is in their eyes as they behold the empty, silent burning cross.

_Ron wants to scream. He wants to throw a tantrum. Where is she? Why did she leave him? He is so very alone...He wants to open his mouth and scream and scream until he dies. Arms hold him. Tears stream down his face. He rocks back and forth in a numb movement he has no control over. __He wants to scream…he reaches his hands to his face. His mouth his open…but there is no sound._

A loud banging echoed in his ears. What was going on? He had no voice…the silence was deadened by a loud thudding—over and over. He wanted it to end.

And it did.

"Ron?" A soft cool voice that oozed with warmth whispered beside him.

He reached out blindly and felt something touch him. He could feel the throbbing of life. His eyes opened slowly and a girl sat before him. He could barely make out her features in the dark. Then he remembered--her smell was familiar. Hermione. He wanted to say her name, but he was silent. Oh, curse the silence!

"Ron, it was just a bad dream. I'm here."

But it was not a dream. He still could not speak. His mother was dead and so was his father! Tears fell silently down his face.

She sat in a chair beside the bed, reaching over wipe away the tears from his cheeks. Ron grabbed her other hand and looked into her moonlit eyes. _Hold me,_ he said, but there was still no sound. Angry and embarrassed, he released her hands and turned away.

Hermione stood with effort and sat on the edge of the bed, putting a hand tentatively on his shoulder. Trembling, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. He gasped and faced her. He held his breath and shut his eyes as if concentrating on some sort of puzzle. He closed his mouth and opened it, uttering a sound. He paused and his eyes fluttered open. It was barely a whisper...

"Hermione." Ron spoke.

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**Changed, yes? I like it. I'm starting to have fun (which is the point entirely). **

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	7. Chapter 7

**Dear Reader, **

**Please forgive me for not writing. I really do care about you. Don't think that I don't.**

**Sincerely (and with high hopes of your kind reviews),**

**''Poo**

**And now begins installment 7 of my rewriting EXTRAVAGANZA!**

**I hope all this hasn't confused any new-comers to my stories...  
**

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**Precarious Silence**

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_Chapter 7_

Cat sat up quickly. There was a soft tap on the door. She glanced towards Hermione, but found herself alone in the king size bed.

"Um…miss?" It was the doctor. Her heart jumped.

"Yes?" She grabbed a robe from the back of the door and quickly wrapped herself in it, hiding the stale blue dress she still wore.

She suddenly found herself staring at Amy Benson's weary and ruffled reflection. It would take ages to get used to that name again. She would have to change everything, even her thoughts, if she wanted to be a human again. But cats were much less complicated!

"Could you come out here for a moment?"

She combed flat and uncooperative hair frantically with awkward fingers and wiped her drool-crusted chin with the edge of the robe. Her fingers shook slightly as she opened the door, peering through a small crack into the doctor's face and taking in his morning robe and slippers. His height startled her as well as an overwhelming wave of recognition—or perhaps he reminded her of someone. Yes, that must be...

"Where's Hermione? I woke up and she was gone." She stared unblinkingly into his sea-blue gaze as it rested intently on her eyes.

He hopefully hadn't noticed the odd color. It was always a strange tint of indigo in the mornings if she was well rested.

"Come with me." He turned and led her down the hall, glancing back to take in her full figure as he opened the door to the guest bedroom.

Amy stepped past him on two unsteady feet and froze on the threshold. Hermione was stretched out beside Ron on top of the covers, her hand clasping his. Ron had curled into a ball with his head against her shoulder. Both were bandaged heavily, but neither seemed in pain.

"They both look so at ease…" Amy whispered and looked up at the doctor, who was silently gazing at the two figures.

A strange look crossed his face for a moment before he nodded and walked out of the room. Amy watched Hermione and Ron, listening to their soft breathing as it fell in and out of sync.

She found the doctor in the kitchen standing above the stove. He stared blankly at the pan in his hand as he spoke.

"Do you not think it strange that they stayed in the same bed all night?"

Amy was taken aback. "Absolutely not." Her voice was suddenly harsh. "You saw their wounds! You should know for yourself that nothing could have..." She took a deep breath and continued, her voice rising slightly. "Besides, I know Ron's character, and it is not one to do anything of the sort. You really have no right—"

"I apologize," he interrupted, "I spoke without thinking." The doctor flushed slightly and kept his eyes trained on the stovetop.

She watched him for a moment as her irritation subsided, studying his profile. It was something about his slightly crooked nose, or perhaps the way he pursed his lips as he concentrated on spraying the pan in a perfect swirl. He had a large build, yet he seemed oddly stretched and thin across broad shoulders and a thick torso. He looked weary beyond belief, but something about him piqued her interest...

With a shake of her head, she decided it was high time she switched back to being a cat. Pesky thoughts such as these didn't plague her when all she cared about was chasing strings.

"Would you like one?" The doctor cracked a shell expertly and let the egg simmer in a lopsided oval.

"Yes, if it's no trouble." She turned away when he looked up.

Amy forgot how hard it was not to blink, and she wasn't quite ready to explain her strange qualities to a doctor. His intense gaze was beginning to smother her. She couldn't hide her eyes forever.

She would have to talk to him eventually, but for now—"I think I'd rather not have that egg after all." Amy stood and moved towards the hallway. From the corner of her eye, she saw him look up.

"But aren't you hungry?"

She stopped, keeping her back to him as she spoke. "No. Where is the shower?"

"It's straight down the hall, but you'll need a change of clothes."

_Blast_. She winced inwardly. "I...I don't have any." Her face burned.

"Yes, I noticed you didn't bring any luggage. Let me finish this and I'll come help you."

Amy listened to the egg sizzle, relishing the scent of food she hadn't eaten in years. She savored the moment, realizing the one good thing about being human was not having to eat tasteless lumpy cat food.

The doctor flipped the egg on a plate and moved the pan from the burner. He stepped around her rigid figure by the door and led her to a spacious laundry room.

"I would have suggested that we go out and pick something up, but seeing as there are two invalids who shouldn't be left alone, there is one other option."

He kept his back to her, thankfully, and reached for a string that hung from the ceiling above a pile of laundry baskets. The doctor pulled and opened the wooden door, coughing in a rain of dust that sprayed his face. He unfolded the ladder and motioned for her to stay as he made his way up the rickety rungs into the dark attic.

After a few minutes of rummaging and grunting, his slippers reappeared on the stairs. His arms were wrapped tightly around a hefty box, and he made his way gingerly down the ladder. He turned towards her and held the box at arm's length. She looked up for an instant and was startled to find tears in his eyes. The dust, perhaps...?

"The clothes in here are clean. Do you need—?"

"No, I can handle it. Thank you!" Amy kept her eyes on the floor and, taking the box quite forcefully from his grasp, made her way to the bathroom.

She closed the door swiftly, thanking her lucky stars her stomach had waited to complain loudly until after she'd left the doctor's presence. She set the box on the toilet lid and studied the scribbled writing on the top flaps:

_Miranda's clothes_

Amy ripped the boxing tape and sneezed before searching through the contents. A picture frame lay on top of several air-sealed bags. When she wiped the glass clean, she found a younger, happier version of the doctor with his arms wrapped around an older woman with dark brown hair that had begun to gray with age. The woman's wrinkled and bespectacled face was lit with a wide grin as the doctor whispered something playfully into her ear. His mother, perhaps? But his expression was oddly romantic...She shivered, pushing the thoughts far from her mind, and placed the photo face down on the edge of the sink.

The doctor had gone to extreme lengths, and she found it almost disturbing. Every article of clothing in the box was carefully folded and pressed, then sealed safely in an airtight plastic bag. It took every ounce of effort to tear into the bags, and she took care to treat everything gently. The fabric seemed untouched and still smelled of a distant perfume. Amy selected a plain, dark green t-shirt, a pair of khaki Capri's and all the necessary undergarments. They seemed strangely close to her own size; she was thankful Miranda had been such a petite woman. Setting the clothes aside, she carefully folded the plastic packages and placed them back in the box. She hesitated when she reached for the photo and propped it on the toilet lid instead.

Amy stepped into a hot bath and settled comfortably in the steaming water, her gaze fixed steadily on the photograph. Time passed seamlessly, and when she finally pulled the plug from the drain, she had burned every detail of the picture in her mind.

- - -

Someone was breathing deeply beside him. Ron's tear-crusted eyes opened slowly, and after a moment, he lifted his head to study the figure beside him. Early morning sunlight fell on her face, outlining the contours of her cheekbones. Her hair was wildly tangled and spread across the pillow in a halo around her head. He watched, bemused, as she lifted a free hand absently to scratch at a bandage.

_Hermione_ was beside him, holding his hand, but he had no recollection of how she got there.

Flashes of a dream—a nightmare—were beginning to surface. The images were horrifying, and try as he did to push it far from his mind, every single detail was becoming clear. He was reliving the dream and the terror all over again, but lastly, and most important, he remembered his voice.

He had a voice. Ron opened his mouth, but nothing happened. He closed his eyes and focused. The dream had felt so real! It seemed to linger like a memory, fitting like a missing puzzle piece among his scattered childhood. And if it felt right, maybe it was true...

"Hermione."

She started as if pricked with a needle and turned towards him with drowsy half-lidded eyes. Her lips curled into a smile, and his heart jumped erratically. Emotions baffled him. He cared for Cat and would protect her with his life, yet he would do that and more for this girl beside him. A few days only had passed since the accident; she was a complete mystery, yet he had an intense desire to be by her side constantly. It frightened him.

She groaned slightly and pulled her hand from his grasp to clutch at her side.

"What's wrong?" His voice was hoarse and cracked from being unused.

Her eyes closed as she winced. Ron reached out to touch her, but she began to writhe in pain, kicking her feet against the footboard of the bed as she scratched furiously at the wrappings beneath her gown. Desperate, he lifted his head to cry out, but his voice failed him as it had so many times.

He lifted himself from the bed and stumbled to the wall. A twinge in his back took his breath away, but his searing pain was nothing in comparison with what she felt.

"Gethemoff..." Her soft mumbling caught his attention, but soon she was shouting madly, "Off! Get them off, they burn!" She began to scream wildly.

He was a selfish fool. Why didn't he force her to go with her mother? All of this could have been avoided. Another moan escaped her lips, and he struggled with the doorknob, stumbling into the empty hallway. It was deathly quiet except for the soft tapping of a pair of feet making their way down the hallway.

"Help." He whispered. It wasn't enough—no one would hear him and come in time. "HELP!" His cry echoed dully against the cool tiles, and he sighed, his heart sinking as the world around him began to disappear into blackness.

Ron felt hands grip him on either side and a soft cooing of voices that were barely audible above the ringing in his ears. Among the murmurs, he could hear a familiar voice. It soothed his buzzing head, and light entered his vision once more. He was propped up in a chair beside the bed, his shirt warm and crimson with reopened wounds.

"Hold her down!"

He strained to focus his eyes on the shifting figures in front of him. A man and a woman stood above Hermione's shuddering form.

"Hand me the needle."

Ron pushed himself from the chair and made his way towards the bed, his eyes focused solely on Hermione's expressionless face. Her eyes were closed, her body now still, almost lifeless, after the injection.

"Ron!" The woman began to push him towards the chair, asking fervently for him to calm, but her voice soon faded as all sounds disappeared around him.

He was focused solely on the man, the doctor, as he placed an ice-cold stethoscope to Hermione's chest.

_She's not breathing_, said the doctor's suddenly pale grim face. The man leaned down towards her face, but he hesitated and faltered, leaning back with a sudden look of helplessness.

"No!" Ron's voice brought back the sound of incessant pleas for him to stop being irrational. "You can't just give up!"

The doctor looked up, eyes wide with fright. "I—I can't. I don't know why, but—"

"You're the doctor. Fix her!" Words were flying from his mouth, and the man winced as if they cut him deeply.

The doctor simply shook his head.

The woman beside him was silent, her amber gaze studying Hermione's still form apprehensively.

Ron pushed aside his puzzlement over the woman's now green eyes and stepped forward, the room spinning about him, and shoved the trembling doctor aside, who quickly moved to escape the room.

- - -

Amy followed, unwilling to let him flee the scene of his mistake.

"Doctor." She realized she didn't know his name. He didn't respond but stopped in his tracks, his back to her. "Doctor!" Silence. She took a deep breath to calm her anger. "I know we are a burden, and I certainly don't want you to stretch past your means, but what the _hell_ was that about?" The soothing breaths weren't working. Her body trembled with fury.

He remained still and quiet. She could hear he was crying. After a moment, he turned towards her swiftly, somewhat composed, and spoke with an edge in his voice. "Hermione's wounds weren't properly cleaned or dressed. I suspect that an infection has spread faster than her body can fight it off. I saw no reason to resuscitate a—a hopeless case." A sob escaped in his voice as he spoke, but it did not stir pity in Amy's breast.

"That is not the point!" Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper, "Whether or not her case is hopeless, you are to keep that to yourself and continue to do your job!" He opened his mouth, but she continued, "And as for your being unable to perform properly, I believe it has nothing to do with the fact that she has a deadly infection and _may not_ make it. There has to be some other reason why you couldn't do something as simple—"

"My wife died," he cut into her sentence like a knife with his lowered voice, "because, try as I might, my attempts at breathing some sort of l-life into her..."a deep breath, "..._failed_!" He lowered his gaze and wiped a fresh wave of tears that dripped from his tensed jaw. "The infection will never heal."

Amy's mouth was suspended mid-sentence, unable to produce any words after his speech.

The door opened beside them—"She's breathing!" Ron's voice brought the doctor back in his place.

"Sit down in the kitchen and wait for me to fix those ruptured stitches. You," he turned, speaking to Amy, "I need your help."

Ron and Amy were stunned by the sudden change and acquisition of authority in his voice; they moved quickly to follow his orders without questioning his motives.

Amy followed him obediently, waiting as he administered some sort of sedative to Hermione and checked her vitals.

"H-how is she?"

"Help me get her to the bathroom." He avoided the topic, as usual. "We're doing this the old-fashioned way." He placed his arms underneath the sleeping patient and began to lift her gingerly from the bed.

"Doing _what_?" Amy stood to the side, her stomach twisting at the site of her tattered bandages.

"Just keep pressure on that wound, but open the door first, and make sure Ron stays put while I get out."

She opened the door and stepped into the kitchen, answering a few of Ron's incessant questions and keeping his gaze averted while the doctor slipped behind them unnoticed. Amy quickly rejoined him in the hall and opened the bathroom door with as much care as she could manage.

"No, not that door. Open mine."

Moving instantly at his command, she opened a door adjacent to the bathroom, and once inside, led the doctor into a larger master bathroom. It was so shockingly white and pristine in comparison with the vivid red that covered her hands and soaked the nightdress that was pulled from Hermione's body. Her mind seemed to shut itself down while she helped the doctor to the best of her abilities. She didn't speak, for fear of letting out a scream at the sight before her. Hermione's life seemed to hang by the thread of those stitches beneath his graceful hands.

He finished and pushed away the roll of bandage she offered him. Without a word, he turned both knobs on full blast until the wound was safely submerged in water. He retrieved two cloths, and they began wiping delicately at the nasty, stitched up gash.

Amy knew asking about Hermione would get her nowhere; so she resorted to a question she had been dreading.

"What is your name?"

He reached over and poured a powdery substance into the bath, keeping his gaze politely averted from Hermione's figure. "Bishop. Dennis Bishop."

- - -

**Eh? How's that?**

**Yeah, I know. Utter MUSH.  
**

**But it was fun, right?**

**I mean, I had fun...**

***crickets***

**Reviews appreciated!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hooraaaay!**

**This is so much fun. Really, you have no idea.**

**Read away, my dear friends!**

**Precarious Silence**

_Chapter 8_

_A pair of hands shook her roughly. _

"_Amy..." A voice whispered into her ear. "Hey, Amy, wake up!"_

_Her eyes opened sluggishly and she turned, meeting his gaze with a frown. "Boys aren't supposed to be in here, Dennis." She looked pointedly at the_ _sleeping figures of the other girls._

"_Yeah, I know, but we promised him, remember?" His pudgy fingers twisted the bottom of his nightshirt. _

"_Yeah." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes reluctantly, her stomach lurching uncomfortably when she recalled Tom's strangely pale and harsh face. There was something about him that wasn't right..._

"_C'mon!" Dennis tugged anxiously at her sleeve. "He's outside."_

_She nodded and followed silently down the stairs, avoiding the loudest panels of wood with ease. They had snuck out so many times, but this was different. They'd get in big trouble if Mrs. Filch knew where they were going this time._

"_Dennis—" Amy grabbed his hand before they stepped out the back door. "I'm scared." _

_He squinted his blue eyes at her, his thick cheeks pulling back in a childish grin. "Amy Benson is scared of nothin'."_

"_But Tom's just so weird."_

"_Shh!" He silenced her and held his breath as a floorboard creaked above their heads. _

_After a tense moment, they heard Mrs. Filch's snores begin again and quickly stepped out the door. Dennis was quiet but kept his grip on her hand. They met Tom Riddle at High Point on the ridge of rocky cliffs that dropped down into murky restless waves._

"_I almost gave up on you two." A mysterious, moonlit sparkle glinted in his narrowed eyes._

_Amy didn't like him one bit. Even at the ripe age of six, she could tell there was something oddly twisted about this seemingly harmless child. In all appearances, he was the perfect little angel. He had wide rosy lips and eyes that sparkled when he smiled. His black hair was always cropped too short, but adults always found him so appealing. He was quiet and gentle, his movements oddly graceful—but she saw him when he thought no one was looking. He would play with dead birds and rats. Sometimes he killed them, taking their wriggling bodies between his little fingers—_

"_Are you ready?" Tom spoke again, his voice shaking slightly behind a mirthless smile._

"_Of course we are. We're not scaredy-cats." Dennis pulled his hand away from Amy to prove his bravery, but she knew him better than that._

_As soon as Tom turned his back, she took his hand again. Tom led them onto a faded path that followed the edge of the cliffs. One slip would send them tumbling down into the salty whirlpool. _

"_We shouldn't be here..." Amy whispered to Dennis when Tom had disappeared behind a bend in the path. "We'll get in big trouble."_

"_But he says it's really cool!" _

"_But—" She was going to tell him some of the things she'd seen Tom doing, but they had reached their destination._

_He was waiting for them outside the mouth of a massive cave. The darkness seemed to swallow up the moonlight._

"_I want to show you something." Tom motioned for them to step inside and disappeared into the blackness._

_Dennis tugged on her arm, pulling her swiftly toward the inky depths of the cave, but while he trembled with sudden delight, she was wishing desperately that she could be tucked safely beneath her quilt. Their eyes were drawn to a soft glow that emanated from somewhere ahead of them, and Dennis slowed his pace as a soft chuckling began to resonate against the stone walls._

"_Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop...I thank you both." Tom's voice trembled with sudden delight._

_Dennis was silent—she barely took a breath. Terror shot through her, sinking to the very bones in her body as her eyes stared at a white face hovering before them. The eyes were glittering, as they had before, with a malicious glint, but now the rosy lips were pulled back in a heartless sneer—the angel's face had turned into that of a demon, the face of her nightmares. _

_She gripped Dennis's sweaty fingers and opened her mouth to scream, but she barely took a breath before a blinding light filled her vision, and something knocked her flat on her back. Dennis was sobbing a distance away—she longed to be beside him, but she could make no sense of up or down..._

"That's not possible..." The vision had passed before her memory in the silence that followed his words.

"I beg your pardon?" His brow furrowed.

He had the same wide blue eyes and pronounced nose that she still remembered. The baby fat had been lost many years ago, but it was unmistakably Dennis—_her_ Dennis—that was sitting merely inches away, completely healthy and all in one piece.

"I—I don't understand. How is this possible?" Amy's heart shuddered as she tried to form words that could convey her feelings. Dismay, fright, confusion, unbelievable relief...

"Don't understand what?"

"My name is Amy Benson." She spoke swiftly and waited anxiously for his reaction, but the confusion he showed was merely related to his obvious questioning of her sanity.

He pursed his lips and waited for her to continue. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

Her heart sank. "Then you don't remember..." Or perhaps it was just a coincidence?

He shook his head, and she fell silent. Neither of them spoke again until he noticed the tears trailing down her cheeks.

"She'll be okay." He motioned to Hermione's still figure. "It'll just take time."

Amy nodded, wishing desperately he could understand the real cause of her sadness. She had no reason to fear for Hermione's life, dire as it seemed, as long as she was in Dennis's capable hands. And as long as her heart kept beating.

"Let's get her dressed and in bed."

Amy helped him lift her from the bath and put fresh dressings on the wounds. She marveled at how light Hermione seemed in his arms as he wrapped the bathrobe around her tightly and carried her from the room with ease. Amy opened doors along the way, not sure what reaction to expect as they reached the end of the hall.

"How is she?" Ron approached them eagerly, his eyes searching their faces for signs of distress.

"She'll be fine after rest and lots of time to recover." The doctor grunted with effort as he stepped into the guest bedroom and set her gently onto the mattress.

Amy stepped towards Ron and extended a hand to comfort him, but he recoiled, searching her face with a furrowed brow. She blinked several times, and she began to see recognition dawning on his face.

"_Cat_? But—how?"

She simply smiled, trying to breathe and swallow around the lump in her throat. "It's good to hear your voice again."

"I had no idea…" He faltered for words, and she pulled him into an embrace to save him the effort.

They parted quickly as Dennis exited the guest bedroom, bringing with him the reminder of all that had passed in just one hour. Emotions seemed to swirl around them in a whirlwind—she was amazed at all that had happened in under a week.

"I'm Dennis Bishop, by the way." He extended a hand toward Ron, who took it reluctantly.

"Ron Weasley."

"And our invalid?" He turned to Amy for the answer.

"Her name is Hermione Granger."

"Are any of you related?"

Amy spoke up before Ron could offer an explanation. "Shouldn't you be fixing Ron's stitches?"

Ron looked at her pointedly, but Dennis merely appeared disappointed with the reminder. He motioned and Ron followed him down the hall to the master bathroom. Amy was slightly relieved to see them go. She wasn't sure if it was wise to tell Dennis the whole story of Hermione's…capture. Or was it an assisted escape? Either way, Ron and Amy were accomplices to a crime.

She wandered around the kitchen, trying to focus on anything but the thoughts that currently plagued her mind. Retrieving a skillet, a few eggs, and a loaf of bread, she prepared to make a batch of French toast. After cracking the fourth egg, she realized her mind was far from the task as she sighed at a pile of white shells in the mixing bowl and watched the raw eggs ooze down the drain. She took a deep breath and tried once more. After her third try, she successfully made a batch of rubbery, half poached eggs, the bread all but forgotten. Resigned, she set these aside on a plate, unable to think of eating with the endless loop of stitched up wounds and Tom Riddle's ghostly grin flashing through her mind.

Amy switched the stove off and tossed the skillet, still steaming, into the sink. She found herself moving toward the front door, fumbling with the knob through a blur of tears. The morning sun seemed to seep through the chill in her bones as she seated herself on the porch swing, unable to avoid the waves of mixed emotions that swallowed her. She let the tears flow freely from her eyes and drip onto Miranda's clothing. She pulled her legs onto the swing and hugged them tightly, breathing in a faint scent of lavender.

Amy nearly fell out of the seat when the door opened unexpectedly. Dennis peered around frantically, his face easing slightly when he saw her.

"Something wrong?" She wiped her face dry but remained seated, denying his obvious invitation to come back inside.

"I just didn't know where you were." He hesitated for a moment and then moved to join her on the swing. "Ron will heal quicker if he would just stop moving around."

Amy nodded silently, unwilling to share in the small smile he offered.

"I noticed something odd about you."

She closed her eyes and sighed, "I'm not really in the mood to explain—"

"Your eyes…" He interrupted and continued, his words almost blending together, "Tom did that to you, didn't he?"

She turned to him suddenly with wide eyes, her heart thudding. "You remember!" He nodded, and her voice shook uncontrollably as she took in his pained expression. "It's not just my eyes—but yes."

Dennis held her gaze and allowed the tears to drip down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

She let out a sob but quickly composed herself, swallowing hard. "What happened to you?" Her hands were trembling.

"I have outlived everyone I love." He studied her face as it twisted with irrepressible pain.

Amy had lost sight of every person she loved that fateful day. She, too, had lived a prolonged life, and Dennis had been lost to her—until now.

She looked away from him, allowing herself time to set the pieces in place. The photo of Dennis and Miranda flashed before her eyes. She was at least ten years his senior, but…"Miranda was your wife."

"Yes." He followed her gaze to the brilliant sunrise over a dew-laden field, but neither of them saw it. In place of the sun was a set of maliciously gleaming eyes, the sparkling grass now a leering smile.

They reached for each other's hands at the same moment, taking comfort in the mutual terror that tore at their hearts.

"We have a lot to catch up on." Amy pulled them back to the present.

"And plenty of time." Dennis squeezed her hand reassuringly.

. . .

Her head buzzed slightly, and her breathing felt stuffy. All of this—the cottony feeling around her sluggish thoughts, the dull ache that surrounded her—was familiar. She forced her eyes open, feeling so very _tired_ of sleeping.

"Hey, you."

Hermione followed the sound and met a crystal clear gaze merely inches from her face.

"Hi." Her voice croaked. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I have no clue. Dennis—er, Dr. Bishop—keeps putting me to bed with a sedative, so I've lost track of time."

She found herself smiling in spite of the unpleasant sensations that she was wallowing in. "I'm so sorry." She couldn't help herself. The words slipped without her control. "It's my fault you're hurt. I'm so foolish—"

"Stop." Ron's brow was furrowed, his eyes averted from her face. "I'm the one who should be apologizing here. I brought you to my house, _I_ convinced you to leave with me…"

"You did nothing of the sort! I came willingly. And you saved my life. If I had just left with my mother, you wouldn't have gotten shot!"

"But you gave me my voice back!"

She hesitated, her head swimming. "Yes…I suppose we're even."

He nodded, his face clearing with a wide grin.

Her thoughts were still troubled. "What are we going to do, Ron? I ran away from home…and they think you kidnapped me. They'll find us—they'll—"

The touch of his fingers on her cheek silenced her. "Let's worry about that later."

Hermione's face burned uncontrollably beneath his hand, and she could only nod slowly in response. He seemed to get lost in his thoughts for a moment as he studied her face, his eyes lingering on her lips. She watched as his face reddened, the freckles on his cheeks disappearing behind the blush. He pulled away and moved to sit up.

"What's wrong?" She tried fill in the gap between them and winced as pain shot through her torso. With a sigh and a burning face, she resigned herself to lie still and stare up at Ron's masked expression.

"Nothing, I just—it's nothing." He turned away. "Silly…" he muttered to himself.

She longed to hear his thoughts, but they were interrupted as the door opened, revealing Amy balancing a tottering breakfast tray in one hand.

"Oh!" She glanced at Ron, suddenly surprised, and stepped backwards into the hallway. "Dennis, he's in here!"

Heavy footsteps came back down the hall, and a low muttering could be heard. "Foolish boy…"

Amy bit her lip to hide a smile as she approached Hermione, setting the tray aside to help her sit upright. Mouth-watering scents wafted up to her from the steaming plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. Her stomach grumbled loudly—how many days had it been since her last meal?

Dr. Bishop entered the room, his face hardening when his eyes fell on Ron's figure beside her. He set the tray in front of Ron rather forcefully and stood back, seeming to wait for an explanation that Ron refused to offer.

"Yuck, I hate grits!" Ron's nose wrinkled as he stared down at the offensive substance in the bowl.

"We ran out of eggs." The doctor looked rather pointedly at Amy, who kept her olive eyes focused on the napkin she was folding for Hermione.

"Um…Dr. Bishop?" He looked at Hermione, and her words were almost lost beneath his penetrating gaze. "I wanted to thank you for saving me."

He nodded, but turned to Ron with a frown. "You should thank _him_. He was the one who resuscitated you." He spoke the words gently, as if trying to avoid a delicate subject or avoid offense.

Hermione glanced at Ron, but not before she noticed a mouthed "Thank you," from Amy to Dr. Bishop.

Resuscitate…as in, CPR…as in, Ron placing his lips over hers. She turned to him, and he flashed a sheepish smile in her general direction. So _that_ was it. She grinned and stared at her food, finding herself disappointed she hadn't been conscious at the time.

"Call us if you need anything." Amy winked surreptitiously, turning one of her eyes a soft pink, before leading the doctor from the room.

It was odd how they looked at each other…but she would have to think about it later.

"Do you want my eggs? I really do prefer grits." She was hungry enough to eat both of their servings, but she handed him her plate anyway.

He took the plate eagerly, handing over his untouched food with glee before swallowing one of the scorched eggs in one bite.

"Thanks for saving me…again." She kept her eyes on the tray and swallowed a blissfully steaming, buttery bite of grits.

He washed down the second egg with a gulp of milk and sighed happily. "It's the least I could do."

They smiled at each other for a moment before returning ravenously to their food.

She racked her brain for some lingering memory of the past few days, but all she could remember was a glimpse of Ron's sleeping figure beside her, drooling on the pillow. Suddenly, she recalled a particular name Ron had used only moments ago—

"What did you say the doctor's name is?"

"Uh, Dennis Bishop, I think."

Hermione nearly choked on her milk, "OH!" She ignored Ron's repeated questions at her outburst and allowed herself a moment to think.

The expressions passed between Amy and Dennis had been too intense for acquaintances. It made sense, but what were the odds?

"Hermione! Will you please tell me what's going on?" The touch of his hand on her shoulder brought her back.

"This is going to be hard for you to believe, but just stick with me...It all began at a small orphanage years ago." As she let the words flow freely from her lips, she realized that not a dull moment would pass as long as she stayed here.

. . . . .

**HaHA!**

**More to come, I'm sure.**

**Keep in mind that I am out of my MIND.**

**So leave some reviews, please. I need to know how I'm doing!  
**


	9. Healing Pizza

**Hey sorry about the delay, friends…PLEASE FORGIVE (but don't forget to review)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Ron and Hermione…yadda yadda…J.K. Rowling's freakin awesome…yadda yadda. Read and review, fools!

------

Precarious Silence

Chapter 9

Jake felt someone shaking his shoulders slightly. He was rewarded with an instant headache once his eyes opened. He pried his face from the swing (he had large imprints of the slats in the swing on his cheek) and peered up into a smiling face.

"How long have you been sleeping out here?" Cath's smooth voice echoed in his ears. He sat up painfully and stretched to relieve the pain of sleeping in the wrong position…and on a wooden swing.

"I dunno…--yawn--…I came out here after you fell asleep again. What time is it now?" he squinted up at the sun that shone brightly on the front porch like a spotlight.

"It's noon. I fixed some lunch, do you want some?" he nodded in reply and Cath helped him untangle himself from the swing and the blanket that had twisted around its chains. They both walked inside and once he passed the threshold, his stomach growled with anticipation. The strong smell of pizza reached his nostrils and he moaned.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday morning…" Cath nodded and slipped her hand in his and led him to the kitchen where she handed him a plate with two greasy slices of pepperoni pizza on it. He seated himself at the bar counter and she joined him after grabbing a piece for herself.

"Oh, you think Ron and Hermione would like some? They are both still asleep." Cath asked as she looked down at her slice of pizza. Jake chewed and swallowed the big bite he had taken and then thought a moment.

"Pizza? Do you really think that's a good idea?" Jake looked at Cath and she shrugged.

"You're the doctor." He nodded and abandoned his pizza to go get a breakfast tray from the kitchen cabinet and placed to plates with one small slice on each and two glasses of water and left the kitchen for the guest bedroom. Cath followed behind him wiping the grease from the pizza onto her wrinkled dress. Cath stepped in front of the doctor and opened the door since his hands were full. He set the tray on the bedside table and Cath went to wake the two sleeping forms on the bed. Ron had his arm lying on Hermione's stomach and since they shared a pillow, Hermione's hair tickled Ron's face and he snorted and gagged on it while he slept. Cath couldn't help but giggle as she slowly pushed Hermione's mane out of Ron's mouth. She motioned for Jake to leave the tray of food on the desk and shut the door quietly behind them both.

…………………………………….

Hermione awoke as suddenly as if someone had shouted in her ear. She didn't remember what exactly woke her, but then again, she was a light sleeper. She didn't know how she even managed to sleep after last night. Her head pounded and it felt especially heavy against the pillow. She reached a hand up to feel her forehead, but it bumped into someone else's arm. She looked down and saw an arm draped across her. She gently put two fingers around the wrist and lifted it up, turning over quickly so she didn't disturb the sleeping form behind her, and laying it back on her side again once she faced him. His hair gleamed in the sunlight shining through the window. Ron….who was sharing a pillow with her, who was slightly drooling, and who had stayed with her the whole night….

…………………………………

Cath nodded her head. "I would be glad to go into town with you." She then proceeded to gracefully slop red pizza sauce on her clothes.

She put her pizza down quickly and grabbed a napkin attempting to wipe off the glob of red goop on the skirt of her dress. She noticed, with horror, that she was still wearing the same blue dress she wore the first night they were here.

Jake noticed her staring at her dress. "I think we can wash that stain out…I don't think it will be permanent."

"It's not the stain that's bothering me…I uh…I don't have any other clothes to wear…"

"Oh. Well, I suppose I…come with me." He wiped his hands on a napkin and stood up, Cath following behind. He took a right into the living room and walked around the large dining table. Cath had never been through this room before and she noticed now how wealthy a doctor must be to have such lavish decorations.

Jake walked into a door off of the dining room that lead into a laundry room. Cath was squinting in the sun and watched as the darkness of the windowless room engulfed him. She walked in and jumped as the door shut behind her leaving her in total darkness. She instantly hated how human eyes were so weak. Why, as a cat she could look straight into the sun and then into a dark room with no problems at all with seeing.

She groped around blindly with her arms extended. She stubbed her toe against something and tripped, lunging forward. "OH!" she cried out, and she was unaware that she had stopped falling until Jake's arms were around her and pulling her up.

"Are you ok?" he still held onto her. She struggled to get her eyes into focus. The light from under the door provided just enough to gleam in Jake's eyes. She could feel his heartbeat against her hand that was pressed against him. It was beating furiously. Did she make him nervous?

"Cath?" She saw his brow crease with worry. She had forgotten to answer him.

"Ah…yes…I am fine. Th-thank you." She waited for him to move away, to recoil, but he didn't. He didn't seem to want to move at all. Neither did she.

…………………………………………………

Hermione felt like she could stay in this moment forever. Ron was still asleep. She, however, had no desire to close her eyes again. She'd much rather look at his slightly messy hair that fell over his face. She reached over and brushed the hair out of his mouth and slid it behind his ear. Ron's eyes fluttered open and then seemed to grow larger as he looked at Hermione. His arm was draped over her. He pulled it off of her and flashed her a nervous smile after quickly wiping the droll off of his chin.

"Good morning." Hermione said with a grin. Ron smiled back. He looked at Hermione's lips and thought of yesterday, how he had saved her. He could feel his cheeks burn and he looked away.

_I hope she didn't find that too awkward…her expression…_

"What's wrong?" Hermione continued to look at him. He looked back and grinned, thinking of something to say.

"I was just thinking…I've slept in the same bed with you for the past two nights." He grinned mischievously.

"Ron!"

"I'm only joking…" he watched with glee as her eyes lit up with laughter.

……………………………………

_How long have I been standing here? Too long. His face looks uncomfortable. He's sweating. Is it hot in here? _Cath thought to herself as she studied Jake's silent face. She felt…odd. Her hands were trembling, _I hope he can't feel them…_and her heart was racing, thought not quite as fast as Jake's. Her stomach felt all fluttery. Her skin tingled under Jake's touch. She didn't like this…she wanted to leave, but she felt also like she could stay here forever.

"Jake…" she said slowly, looking up at him. He seemed to snap out of his thoughts…and her gaze.

"Yeah…sorry." He let go of her quickly and walked over to another door, fiddling with the doorknob. This wasn't quite the reaction Cath was looking for…but she sighed and stepped up behind him as he opened the door and walked up the steps. Sunlight was streaming in at an angle from a circular window near the top. She stood and looked in awe. A dress. A white dress with a flowing trail falling around the torso mannequin. The beads sent speckles of light across the room and mockingly onto Cath's simple blue dress.

"It was Noreen's…" Jake's voice seemed distant.

"It's beautiful." Cath still gazed at the pearly white dress with short sleeves and slanting v-neck. There was a silence in which Jake rummaged through boxes and seemed to want to drown out the silence.

"Here." He pushed a medium-sized box at her chest and she gripped it, finally taking her eyes off of the dress. Jake's eyes were brimmed with tears. She reached her hand out to touch him, but recoiled it slowly and turned away to walk back down the stairs. Jake took a step toward her and she paused. She gripped the box tightly, nervously. He slowly took the box from her and set it down on the floor.

"Cath, I…" he opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say. Cath waited while her stomach did somersaults. Jake lunged forward suddenly before Cath had barely registered the movement and wrapped his arms around her and met his lips with her own.

………………………………………………………………

"PIZZA!" Hermione's stomach grumbled loudly as she sat up in bed. She sat up a little too fast and felt dizzy. "Whoopsie..." she said quietly before putting her head back down on the pillow.

Her head throbbed. Ron remembered the pills and quickly grabbed them and a glass of water sitting next to them. He took one pill out and gave it to her and helped her hold the glass as her hands were shaking.

She felt the pill slide down her throat and she eased back a little. Her head still throbbed and she closed her eyes. Her hip didn't hurt so badly now. Her head was the only thing that pained her constantly. She waited a moment and could imagine the pill working its magic as the pain slowly lessened to a dull stuffy feeling. She sighed and opened her eyes. Ron stood next to her quietly looking into her face. Hermione's stomach complained loudly.

Ron chuckled and walked over to grab the tray and bringing it back. He joined her on the bed and set the tray across their laps, careful not to spill his own glass of water. They both inhaled their pizzas quickly and were still hungry once they were through.

"I'm still hungry…I wonder if they have more in the kitchen?" Hermione asked him.

"I'll go check." He took the tray and grabbed Hermione's empty glass before leaving the room quietly.

Ron walked in the kitchen and instantly smelled the pizza. His stomach growled. How long had it been since he'd eaten? He seemed to have lost count. He set the tray on the counter and paused before loading the pizza onto the plates. There were two abandoned plates sitting on the counter top. One plate still had a crust of pizza left on it. _Where are Cath and Jake?_

He looked in the living room and went into the hallway. He looked in the dining room and noticed a small door to the side that was slightly ajar. He waited a moment and listened. No sound. Wait…no there it was. A footstep above him. They must be in the attic…

He went in the door and found himself in the dark. He saw a door that was open where sunlight streamed through it. As he walked toward it, he heard more footsteps and the deep voice of Jake coming down the stairs. He jumped as the door swung open revealing Cath looking slightly disheveled, but shining almost as bright as the sun streaming through the windows of the attic. She was carrying a box that looked rather heavy. She paused and squinted in the darkness.

"Ron?" she smiled as he came closer into the light.

"Why's it so dark in here?" Ron looked from Cath to the doctor who appeared behind them both.

"Oh, I meant to change the lightbulb in here…but I just haven't gotten around to it yet." Ron held back a smirk and said nothing.

"Here, let me carry that for you." Jake walked in front and took the box from Cath. She nodded and smiled at him. Ron noticed a spark that seemed to fly between them. Cath and Jake led the way out of the dark room and Ron walked in the rear, now not able to hold back his snickers.

"What?" Jake looked back, his eyes not seeing the all-telling expression on Ron's face.

"Nothing." Ron answered flatly.

He knew that there was definitely something between Jake and Cath. He found it oddly funny. He went back in the kitchen as Cath and Jake proceeded down the hallway, too occupied with each other to notice that he'd left them. He grabbed two pieces for both he and Hermione. Ron glanced down the hallway to see Cath taking the box from Jake and turning to go into the guest bedroom as Jake turned to go into his bedroom across the hall. They both turned and gave each other one last glance and a smile before closing the door. Ron chuckled and walked back into the room where Hermione waited impatiently for her food.

"What took you so long?"

…………………………………………….

Cath was overjoyed to find that Noreen was not much larger than she. She managed to find one plain long sleeve blue shirt that was slightly long in the arms. She cuffed the sleeves and folded the longer part of the torso under itself to make it shorter. She found a pair of blue jeans stuffed under a black evening dress. The pants fit her just perfectly. Cath walked over to the mirror and was surprised that the whole thing didn't crack at her horrendous appearance. She hadn't showered in a few weeks, so her hair stuck to her face in straight greasy lines on either side of her temples. She had large bags under her eyes. She saw now that her cheeks were blotchy and red.

_Sod…what does that man see in this?_ She pressed her fingers onto her face and leaned in closer. It seemed, under the baggy eyes and blotched cheeks, that there was a pleasant pale face with large eyes. She blinked and her eyes reflected bright blue in the mirror. _Maybe there was something desireable…_She blushed, making her cheeks turn blotchy magenta and her stomach jumped back to a few minutes ago…

_Their lips met and she felt a tingly sensation run down her spine. _She looked into his face as he pulled away. She smiled up at him, but Jake did not return the smile. He released her slightly from his arms.

"Cath, I'm sorry. I acted without…thinking." Cath's face burned as she creased her eyebrows in a question.

"I mean, let's face it. I barely know you. Why don't we...um…"

"Get to know each other?" Cath finished for him. Jake smiled, nodded, and released his hold of her, relieved that she wasn't disappointed. He clasped her hand briefly before following her down the attic stairs. _She grabbed the box and was met suddenly by Ron at the bottom of the attic stairs…_

A knock on the door aroused Cath from her thoughts. She jumped and noticed that her fingers had been digging into her face. She quickly rubbed her hands over the fingernail marks that were left, making her face only turn a slightly more pink color.

_Sod…_

"Cath?"

"Ah, yes. Hang on just a moment. I'm almost ready." She quickly grabbed a brush and ran it through her hair and looked around for some type of deodorant. She opened a drawer and sprayed some perfume into her hair and on her shirt. She slipped on a pair of old flip flops that were too large for her feet, but would just have to do. She looked at herself one last time before opening the door to meet Jake in the hallway. He had combed his hair to the side and wore a button up plaid top with a pair of casual jeans. She smiled at him and followed him out the door and into the car.

………………………………………………………………..

Hermione paused and listened as the car pulled out of the driveway. Ron stopped stuffing his face and listened with her. He swallowed and a mischievous grin spread across his face. Hermione looked over at Ron and jumped.

"What?" she giggled at his face and the tomato sauce that clung to his chin. "What, Ron?" Ron set his pizza down on the plate and looked at her.

"I guess we're left here…all alone…" his grin broadened and he winked. Hermione laughed and hit him playfully. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"Blech!" Hermione cried out and made a face. Ron flinched.

"Wha…?" he felt his face flush. He looked at Hermione in shock and wondered what he did wrong. It was her turn to put on a mischievous grin.

"You got tomato sauce on my cheek."

……………………………………………………………………………………

OH! DO forgive me! I hope you aren't so angry that you refuse to review…I really really REALLY need your reviews. It seems that life doesn't love me and I have no time (or rather, I just didn't get around to it..)

Please review!

Can I bribe you with cheese?

Portobello cheese?

Yes. It's true. It does exist…-Dr. evil pose- in my MIND….

-breaks out into song-

Portobello cheese

Portobelloooo cheese

I'll eat it with a barrel of rum if you PLEASE!

(hope I got that right)

-cough- well anyway…

Review.

My minions.


	10. Changes

Wow…it amazes me that I've made it this far…who knows how long it will last?

Don't forget to review.

------------------------------------------------------

Precarious Silence

Chapter 10

The car pulled into the sunny parking lot and was put into gear. Both Cath and Jake got out of the car and walked together down the sloping, slightly smelly asphalt in silence. Cath felt Jake's hand slip into hers.

"Jake.." she said in a teasing tone of voice.

"Oh sorry. I can't help it! You're just too pretty." Cath squinted into his face and saw that he was grinning down into hers. She laughed, trying to hide her shock at his comment, and he let go of her hand. They walked in silence once more and Cath was left to her thoughts.

_Pretty? _Pretty! _I am far from pretty…slightly greasy hair…pants that are too big…big shirt..big shoes…how could he possibly…? _She felt itchy for an instant, but did not complain. She hated complaining, so she ignored it and followed Jake into the store.

The door beeped at them as they entered and a rush of air from the air vent hit them in the face. Cath felt an odd sensation that the air had blown something of her away with it and left her with the same itching tingling sensation as before.

_Odd…_she thought as she tried to follow after Jake, but she couldn't move her feet. She looked down at her hands and noticed the accumulation of black hair along the ridge of her knuckles. _What the…?_

_Oh…_

_Sod…_

She felt prickly all over and suddenly her senses sharpened. She could _hear_ it…_but what was it, exactly that she heard?_

She was transforming. She didn't know what to do…Cath simply stood helpless as her cat side took over her mind. She no longer had control. Everything was wrong. She shut her eyes as if to hide from everything…_if they can't see me, I can't see them…_ a voice cut across her thoughts.

Cath? who is this? Jake. No. No…_must escape…eyes opened, sharpened and focused…_man standing over me…_MUST ESCAPE!_ Teeth gleam at the hand that reaches for me. _Hisssssss…_a low growl comes from my throat. I bite. A scream. I move away from the sound, door opening for me. _Flee! _Cutting across hard floors of black and white. I run with light feet, away _away_ from the man. Jake? CATH! Run _run_…keep running never stop. Everything is a blur. Past the curb, past the sidewalk, into the street. Monster. Horns? What? I stop on tight haunches in fear. CATH! A monster moves toward me. Death? I smell it. I hear it. I move. STOP! Too late. I call out in agony with a cat's meow. Tail? Tail? Why do you hurt? Running again…dodging, jumping, moving, limp hurt tail. Feet hit the sidewalk and grateful soft grass. I stop. I lie down. Is it over? Do I die? Am I dead? I smell it. It hangs limp like my tail.

CATH!

………………………………………………..

"I really need to take a shower." Hermione said after both she and Ron had finished their third helpings of pizza.

Ron nodded and took her plate along with his back to the kitchen. Hermione stood up slowly and walked down the hallway into the room where Cath had stayed. She went in and found a bathroom with a small shower with no shampoo, soap, or towels. She sighed and left the room.

"Hermione? Where'd you go?" Ron's voice echoed in the hall. Hermione poked her head out of Cath's room.

"Ah! You startled me…did you find a good shower?"

"No towels or soap or shampoo…"

"hmm…you don't think Jake would mind if you used his?" Hermione said nothing, but nodded and walked into Jake's room. The bed was made neatly, and it seemed that nothing was out of place.

"Obsessive compulsive, no?" Ron cocked an eyebrow and put on his sideways smile. Hermione melted inside, but hid it by giving him a disapproving look and turning away quickly. She was drawn, suddenly, to the dresser that stood at one end of the room. It was bare, save one picture frame. She walked over to it and studied the picture for a moment.

"Oh…oh Ron…" she sounded hollow.

"What?" he walked up behind her and followed her gaze to the picture. Well, there were actually two. In the background, and the larger of the two, was a picture of Jake, a younger, happier looking Jake, and a woman with long blond hair. She was slender and her face was alight with laughter. They were standing on a hilltop, laced in each other's arms and her hair was billowing about her face.

"They look so happy…" Hermione smiled, but it faded soon once she saw the small picture sitting in the front tucked in the corner. Hermione reached out and cleared off the dust so that the picture could be seen clearer.

"A grave…" Ron put his arm around Hermione in a slightly awkward movement, but she was thankful for the support. She let the tears fall down her face. She grieved momentarily for her father and for Jake, who had lost someone who had meant the world to him.

"I think…a nice hot shower would be good." Ron said after Hermione had calmed slightly. She nodded, but said nothing. Ron took her hand and led her across the room and opened the door to the bathroom. They both gasped.

"This isn't even a full bath! You'd think a house this size would have one nice tub somewhere…"Hermione pulled at Ron's shirt and he stopped talking. She pointed to a door that stood at the end of the bathroom.

Ron walked toward it and opened it, holding it to let Hermione in first. She walked in and was stunned. The room was completely white and was fitted with one large tub (I'm sure it had some super jets, too) with cabinets lining the walls. She went to the nearest cabinet and opened it, and was almost thrown back with the strong mixture of scents that hit her in the face. She looked and found two bottles that said "For Men" and handed them both to Ron. She went to the next and got two towels and handed them over to him as well.

"Off you go. Take your shower." She ushered Ron out of both rooms and would not listen to his protesting. "You need a shower as much as I do and I can take care of my_self_ thank you!" She closed the door and stood there, looking at her shocking appearance in the mirror.

………………………………………….

Am I dead? No…no…prickling sensation…I am stretched out now and my tail…is shrinking painfully back into where it belongs. I am me.

"Cath?" a frantic voice shouted. All she knew was blackness. Was it night? No. It couldn't be.

"Cath? Wake up! CATH!" she felt two arms wrap themselves around her and place her in a lap. Her eyes opened and she saw Jake's face staring down at her. His expression moved from worried to relieved and he instantly bent down to kiss her. And again.

"Don't ever do that to me again, Cath. If anything had happened…if you had…if--" Cath reached her arm up with effort and placed her fingers over his lips.

"I would never do anything to hurt you on _purpose_…" it was barely a whisper.

…………………………

Hermione winced as she pulled off the bandages slowly from around her side and her forehead. She was able to see herself clearly now. Her usually frizzy hair was less so from the amount of oil that had accumulated over the days of not taking a shower. She had large bags under her eyes and her face was pale and swollen around the wound. She had lost a few pounds, so her cheeks were slightly sunken in. The wounds were raw and scabbing. She held her breath and was thankful to find that the room with the large bathtub had no mirror with which she would be forced to stare at the garish wound.

Hermione groaned as she stepped into the hot, bubbling water and was happy to find that the salve she put on her wounds numbed them enough so the water would not irritate them. She used sweet smelling soaps and shampoos. She was also overjoyed to find a razor hidden in one of the back cabinets (a/n: girls understand how precious a razor can be while lacking one for at least a week…O.o).

Once she was finished, she let the water drain slowly and got out to find some more gauze for her wounds. They had healed up considerably (and, thankfully, some of the scabs had healed up, so it looked less nasty). She wrapped herself in a long white towel and twisted her hair up into a smaller one. Hermione suddenly realized with horror that she did not bring a change of clothes. Looking in the last cabinet, she found a bathrobe. It was much too large for her, but she wrapped it so that it almost double lapped and tied it tightly with the rope. She looked in all the cabinets that seemed to have everything, but none contained any clothes. She looked around the bathroom and noticed a door she hadn't seen before. It blended in with the wall, and the only noticeable thing was the small off-white door handle. She walked toward it and opened it, revealing a flight of stairs. She flipped on the light switch at the bottom and continued to walk up the steps.

Hermione nearly fell down the stairs once she reached the top. Her gaze fell on a large room with large, wealthy-looking rugs and bookshelves that lined the walls. Windows were placed into the bookshelves, or rather, the bookshelves were placed all around the windows. Hermione loved books. Her fingers itched to reach over and touch one of the dusty spines. She walked out into the middle of the room where the sun fell on the carpet in patches from the window and took a deep breath, wanting to inhale every book on the shelf. The room smelt of dusty paper and crackled spines. She was familiar with the smell, for she had always read as a child and loved exploring in her grandpa's old library before the house was sold.

She sat down on the soft carpet and stretched out with her arms spread out wide, taking in the whole room.

"Hermione?" Ron's frantic voice echoed through the bathroom.

"Up here…" she tried not to let him hear how frantic she was as she stood up suddenly remembering that she was just in a towel. She quickly grabbed a large book and sat down in a leather chair, clamping her legs together and placing the book on her lap. She pretended to be concentrated on every little word on the page although she wasn't really reading. She heard Ron's bare feet on the rug in front of her. His red hair fell in her face as he attempted to look over her shoulder at what she was reading. Her heart nearly skipped a beat when he read the title aloud.

"_The Deep Meanings Behind_…._Sex_? Hermione!"

"I just picked up the first book I saw…" she mumbled and got up to place the book back on the shelf. She turned around to face Ron and almost jumped out of her skin. He was naked except for a towel around his waist. She was startled to find that he had a defined six pack and…didn't look too bad without a shirt on. _Hermione!_ She reprimanded herself and quickly looked away.

"Ah…yeah. I couldn't find any clothes…" he coughed and looked down.

"Me either."

"Where could we find some?"

"Well…you could wear Jake's clothes…but what would I wear?"

"I…do you hear that?" the sound of an automobile pulling up the driveway caught their attention.

They both ran down the steps and Hermione quickly gave Ron a robe to put on and left the room quickly before he changed. She trotted out of the room and into the hallway. She heard someone walking up the front steps and she quickly went to the window.

"Jake!" she yelled and quickly threw the door open. "What happened?" she held the door steady as she watched Jake carry a very limp Cath into the living room. She shut the door and followed after him.

"Hey! What happened?" he hadn't answered her yet. He lay Cath down on the couch and pushed the hair out of her eyes. He propped the pillows up near the end of the couch and put Cath's legs on them. Hermione thought this very odd, but he was a doctor and obviously knew what he was doing.

Ron walked in and stood silently next to Hermione. She spoke up again, irritated that the doctor hadn't answered her question.

"Jake—"

"I don't know!" he snapped and both Hermione and Ron jumped. "I'm sorry…I'm just…worried." He fell silent and Hermione did not feel like asking any more questions. She felt light headed and unsteady on her feet. She walked slowly over to the recliner that sat diagonal from the couch. Ron followed suit and sat in the recliner across from Hermione's. Jake took a deep breath and retold the events of earlier.

"I thought I'd lost her…" he finished, and waited in silence for Hermione or Ron to answer.

"Do you think it might be…maybe…because she hadn't been in her cat form for a long time?" Ron spoke up.

"But why would it force her to go into her cat form so suddenly? I thought she could choose to change when she wanted…I mean, she is a shape-shifter. You'd think she'd have a choice…unless the cat is her true form, because then it would do that if she was in her--"

"Hermione!" Ron shouted at her.

"What?" she _hated_ getting interrupted in the middle of her spews of epiphanies.

"Shut up."

"She's right, you know…"

"HA!" Hermione pointed a defiant finger at Ron. "Wait, what?"

All of them looked at Cath whose eyes were slightly open. Jake looked relieved and reached out to touch her, but recoiled with second thoughts.

"The cat is my true form as a shape-shifter…and I think the only reason I changed…was because I had been a human for too long…I should have predicted…and I was warned slightly…but since I did not change, my cat form sort of…took over and I had no control." She stopped talking, out of breath.

"How's your…um…tail?" Jake asked hesitantly.

"Oh…I'd forgotten…I'd have to change back. Can you…help?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, confused.

"Tail?" Hermione asked, but she was ignored.

Jake picked up Cath slowly and carefully and walked down the hall. Ron got up and followed after them, opening the door to Jake's room and closing it behind him.

……………………..

"Cath? I'm going to put you down so I can—wait the doors are already open." He wanted to keep her from falling asleep, so he spoke to her as he carried her through the bathroom and carefully up the stairs.

"This is my study. I hardly come in here anymore…and over here is the table where I'm going to help with your tail…I need you to…um…here let me put you down." He set her down carefully on the table. Her eyes were barely open.

"Cath?" he placed his hand on her forehead and she opened her eyes a little bit more and managed to blink. She stared at him with gray, misty eyes. "I need you to change back, now…and I think you should stay in cat form for a while so you can recover. Do you understand me?" she nodded her head slowly and held out her hand blindly to him. He grasped it, and she started to tremble violently. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch, but held onto her hand to let her know that he was there for support. He waited a moment.

_Mreaow?_

Jake opened his eyes and saw that he was holding a paw…a cat's paw.

…………………………………..

Hello faithful readers. I dearly hope this chapter didn't seem too rushed—

You: --throws paper balls—

-dodges- HEY! No! That is not cool!

You: How could you disappoint us so badly?

Oh me oh my! –dodges a tomato-

You: I'm going to review just to SPITE you!

Sounds good to me—dodges eggplant—

What is with you people and EGGPLANTS?

-pant pant-

Review my kind, faithful, loving, caring, awesome, amazing, loving—wait did I already say that?—wonderful readers!


	11. Let Her Go, Boy

YES! I know. I KNOW! –silences the crowd of screaming fanatics—I am aware that I have neglected the story for a week –shouts- OK! More than a week…maybe a month…or four…but really! Were the picket signs necessary? –avoids the many wooden posts and poster boards thrown in my direction- ALL RIGHT! I SURRENDER! –holds up a white flag- Here is your precious chapter!

…….

Precarious Silence

Chapter 11

……..

"Hermione…" she raced back and forth in the kitchen. "'Mione. Please…" he walked in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. "Stop pacing."

She nodded, but did not clear the worried expression that showed on her face. Ron quickly let go of Hermione and grabbed the towel that was wrapped around his waist as it threatened to fall off.

"Why don't we get dressed?" Hermione turned around to hide her blushing face and walked quickly down the hall to the guest bedroom. Ron followed after her and went into Jake's bedroom.

……….

Ron sat in the living room reclining on the sofa. _Girls take so long to get ready…_

"How's this?" Hermione walked into the living room. He smiled at her.

"Looks great." He took some time to study her.

His eyes went from her bare feet to the loose jeans that were slightly snug around her waist, to the sky-blue t-shirt with a v-neck (let's not get too detailed now…) that hung down only slightly past the first belt loop on the jeans, and then finally his eyes locked with hers. He took a moment to study her face and found how tired she looked. She had lost some weight, which didn't suit her, he thought. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in. Her elbows looked especially bony. He swore to himself that he'd make her look much healthier by the end of summer even if he had to force-feed meals to her.

"What are you smirking at?" Hermione's face was flushed and she met his eyes defiantly.

"Nothing, nothing..." He smiled at her and stood up.

He straightened out the long pair of jeans he found in Jake's drawer. They fit well. He brushed the wrinkles out of the plain t-shirt that was slightly too large, but flattered his slim figure.

"Shall we?" he pointed toward the door and they both stepped out into the bright sunlight with smiles on their faces.

……………………

Jake was gentle as he lifted Cath's furry form from the table. She was still sleeping deeply from the shot he had given her two hours ago before the surgery. It had been a slow and painful process and Jake found his neck to be very stiff from leaning over the short table. Her injury was more serious than he thought, but he was sure she would recover soon.

He walked over to a low, cushioned ottoman that was placed near the window at the foot of a high-backed chair with the same color fabric over its cushions. He placed the sleeping cat on the ottoman and walked over to one of the bookshelves.

C…Co… Sod. What was the name of that book? 

He moved to the next bookshelf and his eyes fell on the spine of one particular book, it's golden-lettered title gleaming in the sunlight.

_Forms of Shape Shifting._

_Where did this one come from?_

Jake pulled the book from the shelf and sneezed as a shower of dust flew up his nose. He walked quietly back to the chair carrying the heavy and overly bulky book. He looked at Cath to find her still fast asleep, whiskers twitching slightly. He sat down and opened the book to the first page. The title was written in fancy letters and underneath it was a small paragraph:

"The pages of this book contain the findings of one Professor Jylenhall Revlett and his research on this topic. Some of the information was taken from unknown sources unspecified by the Professor and have not been verified as reliable."

Jake had to squint to read the fine print near the bottom of the page.

"**Def**. shape shifting: _verb_. The act of changing from one form to another, most often between a human form and an animal form. This is seen as a mythical power that has been around for an undefined amount of years, but has not been heard of since the late Middle Ages. It is believed to be extinct."

Jake looked up from the page to Cath's peaceful form in front of him. He smiled and turned to the very back page in search of an index. He flipped through the "A's" and "B's" and frequently went to the front of the book to look at the interesting information on different animals. He had turned to "Buffalo" and was reading the page very thoroughly.

"Reeaaow." Jake nearly fell out of his seat at the sound of a cat's meow. He looked up to see Cath's dark green eyes staring intently at him. He smiled.

"Hello, Cath. How are you feeling?" he felt slightly foolish trying to converse with a cat…_but she's not a cat! _He also felt foolish trying to justify conversing with a cat.

Cath looked at him and blinked slowly, her eyes becoming a kaleidoscope of color. It was almost as if…was she crying?…a tear fell from each eye and rolled down her furry cheek. Jake's heart ached for her.

"Oh, c'mere..." he reached out his hands and gently took her from the ottoman and put her in his lap once he placed the book on the floor. He hesitated before stroking her behind the ears. Jake could not help thinking how odd this was…

"It's ok. I know it hurts, but I have you now…it's ok…" he spoke soft words and gently worked his fingers into Cath's long soft fur. He wiped her tears away.

"I'll take care of you…I'll never let anything happen to you again, you hear?" Jake felt a tear roll down his cheek. Cath looked up at him with glittering dark blue eyes. Jake leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head.

Cath closed her eyes and purred gently, lulling Jake to sleep.

…………………….

"I'll race you back!" Hermione shouted as she bolted forward into a full sprint.

"HEY! No fair! You got a head start!" Ron shouted and stretched out his long legs to catch up to her. They darted between the trees of the forest they were in.

It wasn't long before Ron was beside Hermione. He glanced at her to see that she was staring forward, not wavering one bit. Her mouth was set firmly and she was concentrating completely. _Man, she's competitive…_ Ron smiled to himself. _I should do something to break her concentration…_he held back a laugh at his mischievous thought. He slowed his pace so he was exactly in step with Hermione and waited until they were out of the trees. Without giving her time to react, he bent down and placed one arm under her knees and the other on her back and flipped her up into his arms.

"WAAUGH! RON! What on Earth--"

"Now we'll both win!" he almost fell backwards, but managed to push forward and run steadily.

Hermione smiled and looked forward. Ron grinned at his own cunning. Ron slackened his pace as he was getting tired. One last hill, and they were almost to the porch. Just as they almost reached the top, Hermione motioned for him to put her down. He placed her down on the ground and stood there panting, glad for the excuse for a break.

"Wh…what?" he asked, out of breath. Hermione put a finger up to her lips and walked forward silently. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled forward to peer over the top of the hill. Ron followed suit without asking any more questions. They both poked their heads up above the edge of the hill to see two cars parked in the driveway. Two police cars. Two police officers, a man clothed in a long tan coat and brown 20's style hat, and…

"Oh…my…" Ron glanced at Hermione who had covered her mouth with her hand. Ron looked closely at the woman.

"That's…your mom!" Ron's voice rose suddenly. It echoed across the field. Hermione grabbed Ron by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down in the grass next to her quickly. They both waited breathlessly as the voices echoed across the field into their anxious ears.

"What was that?"

"It sounded like a voice, sir."

"Maybe it was just a bird…"

"A bird? You dolt…"

The rest of the conversation was lost as the party of four turned toward the house and rang the doorbell repeatedly. Ron peeked his head up cautiously and Hermione pulled him back down again.

"Are you insane! What were you thinking? We're lucky they didn't see us…" Hermione hissed.

"Why isn't Jake answering the door?" Ron whispered to her, ignoring what she said. He peeked over the hill again.

"RON!" she pulled him down once more and immediately froze.

"What was that? That was definitely a voice."

"You're hearing voices, Jack."

"Am not!"

"Just rid us of your stupid presence and go look for the voice." Hermione recognized her mother's voice for the first time.

"Right."

Ron mouthed to Hermione, _What do we do?_

Hermione didn't think twice. She quickly grabbed Ron by the waist and rolled on top of him until they were both rolling down the hill toward the edge of the woods. They rolled in between the first two trees and stopped. Ron realized that Hermione had gone very limp. He looked down to see that she had a purple bruise sprouting on her temple. He cursed under his breath and quickly pulled himself over behind a tree trunk and placed Hermione's back towards himself, grabbing her waist to keep her upright.

"Hey guys! I found something!" the officer's voice boomed down the hill.

Other footsteps were heard coming closer.

"What is it?"

"It's…a string, sir." Ron looked down at Hermione's shirt to see that it had unraveled, caught on something on the way down.

"What's so important about a string?" the woman was sarcastic.

"It's a long string…"

Ron quickly took action. He prayed Hermione would forgive him….and then he quickly tore her shirt off and darted as silently as he could to a tree farther in the forest.

"It's still attached to something, sir!"

"Well? Go after it!"

"YES SIR!" the officer shouted loudly. Ron heard the footsteps coming closer. He looked down at Hermione who was (fortunately) wearing a bra. He kept his eyes focused on the tree trunk in front of them and he listened intently. The footsteps were dangerously close. Ron barely breathed. Hermione groaned.

_Oh no…ohno ohno ohno…_he cursed profusely…in his head.

"Sir! I found a shirt!" the footsteps came closer. "Should we search in the woods?"

"We don't have time! We've wasted enough time already!" Hermione's mother had barely said anything since she got here, but now she exploded. "I want to find my daughter! I've been through too much…I cannot…will not…go another day without her! Oh…" she broke down into tears.

Obviously, the investigator and both the cops had been around Hermione's mother for too long. None of them said anything to comfort her and merely suggested that they _do_ search the woods.

Ron froze. He looked down at Hermione and knew that it was the only thing he could do…the best thing.

_I suppose I knew this would come some day…_he kissed her on the top of her head and carefully laid Hermione on the forest floor. He looked back once as he was walking away.

_This could be the last time…_

He wanted to savor it. He wanted to look at her for the last time…for good (even if she wasn't wearing a shirt…). He bent down behind a rock, not ten feet away from everyone. They were all too worried about Hermione to look into the darker part of the woods.

"HERMIONE! My daughter! She's been murdered!" her mother wrapped her arms around Hermione. "My poor, poor girl! Oh!" she sobbed loudly, rocking back and forth. "My baby! My baby child! Oooh!" she moaned and cried loudly.

"Look, sir! She's waking up! She's not dead!"

"Yes, Jack. I have eyes…" no one paid attention to this sarcastic comment.

Hermione's eyes were open now. She looked at all the faces standing over her with a confused expression on her face.

"Hermione! It's mommy!

"I'm Jack. You're shirt's over there." The other officer who remained silent promptly smacked Jack in the arm.

Hermione did not linger on any of the faces before her…

"Ron…" she was looking in the direction where Ron was crouching behind the rock.

"No, no honey! I'm here. Mommy's here for you. No need to worry. Mommy's got you right here and she'll never let you--"

"Goodbye, Ron."

…………..

She was long gone, now. The cars' engines had faded into the distance. The sun was setting, yet Ron had not left. He sat there behind the rock and stared at Hermione's face in his mind. Her blank stare…the cuts and bruises on her face….the way her hair fell across her forehead…he could remember them in detail.

_Goodbye, Ron…_

It was as if everyone in his family had died all over again.

He could not stay here any longer…

He stood up quickly and walked out of the woods and directly up to the house. He felt numb. Where was everybody? He was alone.

No, there is Jake and Cath. But…where were they?

Upstairs.

He walked through the house and up the stairs. He looked around the study and his eyes fell on something. His heart skipped a beat.

_They look so peaceful…_

Jake was sitting in a red cushioned chair, his head leaning against the back of the chair, his legs propped on a matching ottoman. His arm was resting on something furry…a cat…Cath.

_They have each other…why can't I…have…_

He let his emotions take over. He'd felt loss like this before…his body racked with sobs and he covered his face with his hands like a child.

"Ron?" Jake's voice cut into his mind. Something furry rubbed against his knee with an inquisitive 'Meaow?'. Ron didn't look. He kept his face covered and spoke through his hands.

"She's gone…I let her…I let her go…" he repeated the words over and over...

……………

-sniff-

-blows nose-

Don't you just hate it when stories go from happy to suspenseful to sad in just a few paragraphs?

-hands tissues to my faithful readers-

-sniff-

It's ok to cry…just don't get snot on my new carpet.

-is hit with ungrateful people and their picket signs-

GAH!

REVIEW! That's all I'm asking for!


	12. Troublesome Sleep

Hello again! My, my, I am just FULL of updates this week! I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much as all the chapters previous (hopefully I wont disappoint you.)

(sorry for the boring introduction. I feel less creative today. Sad.)

**Disclaimer: **I refuse to say that I own Ron and Hermione's names. I do however, own the plot, the other characters, and Ron and Hermione's awful OOCness.

…………..

Precarious Silence

Chapter 12

……………

Hermione must have blacked out, for she could remember nothing but _now…Now_ she was in her bed. _Now _she had an excruciating headache. _Now_…she was alone. Her mother had left the room to let her catch up on sleep maybe…or was that yesterday? What is today?

She looked at the clock next to her bed. It simply flashed 12:00. She felt that it was mocking her. Oh…but now her head her badly. She reached a hand up and touched her temple.

"Ah!" she cried out. She could feel the pain spread from her temple…but with the pain came the memories. She remembered…

_Fear and rolling. Rolling down the hill at breakneck pace. Somewhere in the process…everything went black. Waking up to see odd faces and one familiar…mother? And then…but was she alone? No. There had been someone else…someone she had clutched close to herself with fear and rolling. Someone tall…red hair atop his head…a He? Yes. He. He was skinny, too. Well built. A crooked smile spread lazily across his face…blue eyes…_

"RON!" she startled herself with the sudden realization and vocalization of his precious name.

And now she really was alone…and left with a splitting headache and a clock that mocked her. How many days had she been here? Yes. Now she remembered. She remembered the quiet ride home in the back of a police car. Her mother had her arms wrapped tight around her. She could barely breathe. She remembered coming home to an empty house. She remembered the days and days she stayed in bed, too depressed to move. Of course, she never told her mother she was depressed and simply used the excuse, "My head hurts…" to stay in bed and wallow in her loneliness.

The house is quiet…

Where is Kathleen?

"Your sister is…out of town for the weekend." Her mother had told her the day she came home.

Out of town? Since when did Kathleen ever leave the house, or her room for that matter?

Doesn't matter. Hermione knew that Kathleen meant not to return. She did not know why she knew, (for her mother had told her nothing) but she did know that Kathleen was gone for good.

Her head hurt.

She was lonely.

The house is quiet…

_What is that delicious smell?_

Hermione looked to her left at the bedside table where a silver platter topped with various yummy-stuffs sat atop a small bedside table. Her stomach growled when she recognized the smell of toast and scrambled eggs. And--_sniff—_pancakes! She reached over and nearly dropped the whole tray on the floor, but managed to catch her balance.

The orange juice had sloshed onto the tray and made a mess of the cloth napkin that sat beside it. She picked up the silver lid that covered the warm food (how fancy!) and nearly drooled on herself when she saw how delicious the food was.

She ate quickly and finished off everything on her plate.

She heard a knock on her door.

"Come in."

"Hello honey." It was her mother. So…she wasn't completely alone after all. "I'm going out to the store for some groceries and other errands. I should be back by lunchtime. Be careful and try not to overexert yourself. How's your head today?" she moved and sat on the edge of Hermione's bed.

"It hurts." She did not feel like talking to her mother.

_I suppose I'm angry…she took me away from the place that I felt most at home._

"Well, you keep resting. I don't want you to get out of bed until I get back, ok?" She stood up and kissed Hermione on the head before turning to leave.

Hermione watched her mother leave the room without replying and lay back on her over-stuffed, feather down pillows. She looked over toward the window. The sunlight beamed through the window, smiling at her. Against her mother's wishes, she ripped the covers back and walked unsteadily over to the window seat. She reached around the thin white curtains and opened a window, watching the curtains billow around her. Hermione moved to lie down on her stomach and look out the window over the acre of hilly fields and the edge of woods that surrounded the house.

An engine roared in the driveway. Hermione watched her mother's car disappear over the hill. She was alone now.

_It doesn't matter…I have the sun._

She closed her eyes and let the warmth of the sun heat her face.

_DING DONG!_

She jumped. Who could be at the door?

She glanced at herself in the mirror and frowned. She looked horrid. Oh well…

Hermione grabbed a bathrobe and put it on over her nightgown.

_DING DONG DING DONG!_

"I'm COMING!" she yelled down the stairs as she dashed down them. Yeesh. People are so impatient these days. She ran down the hall and around the corner to the front door. She gripped the doorknob. Everything was going fuzzy and she felt unsteady on her feet. She opened the door and promptly lost her balance, falling into the arms of the person who stood at the front door. Without opening her eyes, she managed to squeak out a few words.

"Sorry…I…felt dizzy…" she felt too weak to move. The arms that were now holding her were very strong.

"It's ok." The person pulled her up so she was upright and almost standing. Was that…? She tried to compose herself and stood on her own. The arms slowly released their hold. She opened her eyes and gasped when she saw him.

"Ron!" she fell into his arms and hugged him tightly. "I thought I'd never see you again…" she felt his arms tighten around her.

"I've been waiting. I walked here everyday and waited for a chance to see you." He brought his hand up and stroked her wild, frizzy hair. She pulled away from him and looked in surprise.

"A week? You waited a whole week?" she laughed. He nodded and put his arms around her again, pulling her closer, his face just inches from hers.

"I missed you." She barely got the words out before he pulled her to him in one swift movement and kissed her. Her heart skipped a beat. She pulled her face back and looked up at him, beaming.

"Have you been waiting a week to do that, too?" she asked.

"Longer." He replied with a smile. And with that said, he kissed her again.

…………

"Let's check on your bandages, shall we?" Jake picked up Cath and set her down on the table in the library. Cath looked up at him with bright yellow eyes and replied with a mellow "Mraw." She had an odd look in her eyes as she stared at him intently, not blinking. He smiled at her and stroked her face with his finger.

The telephone rang.

"Sigh. I'll go get that. You wait right there." He walked over to the window where the telephone sat on a small table. He picked it up quickly.

"Yes, this is Jake." He paused.

"No, I'm not interested--"

"Thank you, but--"

"No, you don't understand--"

"No, you don't--"

"I DON'T WANT YOUR DAMN PRODUCT!" he slammed the receiver down. "Sales call…" he turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin. There, on the table, sat Cath in her human form. She wore her blue dress that she wore the first day she was here.

"What—how—change back! Your tail is still hurt!" Cath's face was blank. She held her hands out in front of her face and he watched as her eyes grew wider.

"I don't remember changing…" she looked at him and furrowed her brow. There was a small pause before he said anything.

"How do you change, exactly? I mean…what do you do?" Jake took a few steps towards her, but stopped himself.

"Well, I just have to think about it, really. I have to picture myself in human form or cat form to change." She blinked and met his gaze with green eyes.

"What were you thinking about before I answered the phone?" Jake took one more step closer to the table. Cath blushed and looked down. She did not answer him, so he went on.

"So you definitely were not thinking about changing into a cat?" he studied her face. She shook her head.

The telephone rang once more. Jake sighed, and walked over to answer it again.

"Hello?…..Oh hey Aunt Bethel…Yes. Yes very well…hold on." He put his hand over the receiver. "Cath, do you mind if I take this downstairs?" Cath shook her head.

"Aunt Bethel? Let me call you back. Ok…bye." He hung up and quickly left the room.

Cath sighed and looked around the room for something to do. Her eyes fell on an open book that had been carelessly kicked under the red stuffed chair.

"How did that get there?" she got up and picked it up from the floor. Immediately, she recognized it. It was the book Jake had been reading the day of her operation. Somehow, he must have forgotten about it. She sat down in the red chair and turned the book over to look at the spine.

_Forms of Shape Shifting._

The book was open to a page that had 'Buffalo' written in fancy letters at the top. She flipped a few pages over and stopped. The word 'Cat' jumped out at her. She looked on the page with elaborate pictures of black cats with large eyes staring at her. She found it slightly unnerving…but she read the page nonetheless. Cath knew most of the information that the page contained and moved on. She flipped through the pages until she got to the end, just before the index. The page was titled 'Commonly Unknown Facts About Shape Shifters'. Cath was curious. She scanned the page and gasped when she got to one paragraph in particular.

"It is known that shape shifters can lose their powers if they fall in love. Once the power is lost, it can only be retrieved or reacquired if and only if the person or persons the shape shifter loves are killed. Another method may be for the shape shifter to convince his or herself to fall out of love, although this method has proven to be unreliable."

_Could I kill him? No! How could I think such a thing? …And to fall out of love? _

Cath suddenly reached out and ripped the page from the book. She let the book drop to the floor and covered her face with her hands in despair.

_What do I do? Oh why me? Why can't I just go live in a cottage somewhere by myself…as a cat?… I like cats. I _am_ a cat. _Was_ a cat. Oh stupid love--_

"Cath?" Jake's voice cut into her thoughts. She hadn't heard him walk in.

"Yes?" she moved her hands and looked at him, putting on a smile.

"What's wrong?" he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Nothing. I just think…that I'm tired. A lot of strain. I need rest." She hid the paper behind her back and walked out of the room after saying a quick 'G'night!' to Jake and walked briskly down the steps.

………

Cath leaned against the door to the guest bedroom that she had fled into quickly. She no longer had to put on a fake smile. She pulled out the wrinkled paper that was clasped in her hand and quickly ran to the bed, burying her head in the pillow.

………

Something was wrong…she had acted so strange. He had followed her down the stairs shortly after she left and now stood outside her door, barely breathing. He was listening. Jake was certain that he heard…someone crying.

_That's a guarantee I won't sleep well tonight…_

………..

I hope Jake's loss of sleep does not interfere with yours…--a pillow is thrown at my head--

Hey! –dodges another-- You are asking for it! –two pillows collide with my precious noggin--

AAAAH! My brain!

--is being pummeled by the sleep-deprived readers—

--manages to utter a few words in between head beatings—

IF –hit- YOU –hit- R&R –hit- I might bring myself –hit- to FORGIVE YOU ONE DAY! –hit-


	13. Paper Kisses

Hello my readers! So, here I am yet again with another update. Indeed! I hope you enjoy it. I apologize for the shortness of last chapter. I hadn't really realized how short it was until I had already posted it! Ah. Well then. I shan't keep you waiting. DO read and review! (you'll be my bestest friend.)

ONWARD!

……

Precarious Silence

Chapter 13

……

"It's getting late…" Hermione said quietly as she looked out the window. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the window seat looking out over the field that surrounded the house. She was lying on her stomach, stretched out on the cushions while Ron sat up and fiddled with her hair.

"I know." He replied, not seeming to care.

"Well, you ought to go home." She craned her neck to look at him. He shook his head and looked down at her, smiling. She sat up and moved closer to him, mocking anger.

"You are insufferable!" she could not hold back a smile as he got a playful look in his eyes.

"And _you_," he put his hand up to her cheek, "are in need of a kiss." Hermione felt her face flush, but she grinned and stood up, pulling away.

"Oh am I?" she put her arms on her hips. He stood up and took a few steps toward her. She giggled and ran to the other side of the bed. He ran around the bed and cornered her.

"HA!" he grabbed her around the waist. "I have you now." He leaned in closer to her face.

A car was heard outside. They both froze, listening. Ron was just inches from her face.

"That would be my mother…" she whispered. Ron nodded and stood up straight.

Hermione heard the front door slam shut. She quickly stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around, a slightly dazed expression lighting his face. She led him over to the closet and pushed him in, closing the door behind him.

Her mother's footsteps were coming dangerously close. She jumped into bed and quickly pulled the covers up around her chin. The door opened at that moment.

"Sorry I took so long, dear. I hope you weren't too lonely without me."

"No…" Hermione held back a smile. Her mother walked over and kissed her on the head.

"Oh dear. You're face is flushed. Are you too warm?" a noise was heard in the closet. Her mother turned and looked at the door. "What was that?"

"Nothing, mom," she had to think fast. "Mom…" She cried out and put a hand up to her face. "Ooh! Oh I feel faint…" her mother turned quickly and went to her side.

"Are you ok? Do you need something?"

"I need sleep. Mom…do you mind?" she put on a sad face.

"Oh, no dear. You sleep. Just call me if you need me. I'll just be down the hall."

"I don't think I'll be needing anything tonight, mom. There's no need to worry." Her mother smiled slightly, but still looked worried. She nodded and left the room. Hermione waited until she heard her mother's door close. She sat up in bed.

"Ron, what on earth were you doing?" she spoke in a hoarse whisper. The door to the closet opened and out popped Ron and a whole load of shoes.

"Jeez, Hermione. How many pairs of shoes do you need?" he piled the shoes into the closet and closed the door quickly before anything else fell out.

"You should go home."

"Nonsense." He walked over and sat on the edge of her bed, grasping one of her hands in his. "Home for me is wherever you are." Hermione smiled at him. She was silent for a while, looking around her room…her mother had taken all her posters down, leaving the pale walls blank. Her toy chest and boxes of various things from her childhood had been moved to the attic. A thought occurred to her…

"This isn't my home…I've never liked it here." Ron looked at her with a small smile spreading up one side of his face. "I want to go where I've felt the most at home…"

"And where's that?"

"At Jake's house. It felt like home when everyone was there…together. I know it sounds cheesy, but…" Ron nodded in agreement.

"So, when do we leave?"

…………………

Moonlight streamed through the slats in the blinds and landed on Cath's restless form. Her mind was racing. She sat up and clenched her fist around the balled up piece of paper in her hand. Memories filled her mind once more. She pulled herself out of bed stiffly and grabbed a robe before walking out the door. _A little fresh air should do me good…_

She tiptoed down the hallway and into the kitchen. She slipped through the sliding doors leading to the back porch and walked over to the railing. She leaned on the post heavily and looked up at the sky. A bright full moon shone in the dark sky. She sighed and put a hand up to her face…her wet face. Cath wiped the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. She looked down at the paper clutched in her hand and clenched her teeth, frustrated. _Cursed love…_

She tossed the paper over her shoulder and listened as it bounced off the wall behind her and landed with a light tap on the floor. She closed her eyes, letting the moonlight caress her face.

_Taptaptap. Crunch._

Cath jumped as she heard three footsteps followed by the sound of crinkling paper. She knew who it was…

"Cath?" she opened her eyes at the sound of his low voice. His footsteps moved closer. She flinched, and quickly stepped to the side, wishing to flee.

"Wait!" a hand grabbed her wrist and stopped her. "Please don't run…" she turned her head to look back at him, but did not move any closer. He lifted his other hand, which held the page from the book she had torn out. "What's this?"

"Nothing," she said, "it's nothing." She could not keep the tears from falling down her pale cheeks. She reached a hand up and wiped them away, furious. "Oh, let me go!" she tugged at her arm, but he did not slacken his hold on her wrist. He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. He threw the paper aside and reached out an arm, pulling her closer. She did not resist. Jake pulled her close into an embrace.

"Tell me what's wrong." His voice vibrated in her ear that was leaning against his chest. She felt her body tremble, and she shook her head.

"I can't…" the words were caught in her throat.

"Please tell me…" she shuddered and looked up at him with gray eyes.

"Shape shifters lose their powers if…if they fall in love." The words were choked, and barely audible. He did not reply.

She looked up at him. His face was blank, expressionless. She drew her eyebrows together, frustrated.

"Do you understand?" her voice was clearer now, more confident. He looked down at her with a blank expression. She sighed and rolled her eyes slightly. "_Men…_" she muttered. "I…I love you, Jake." She looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. She could feel his heartbeat quicken. _He doesn't feel the same way…oh how embarrassing!_

Jake reached out and put a hand on her cheek, turning her face towards his. She still refused to look at his face, tears blurred her vision.

"Cath." She looked up at him, startled. He leaned down, and before she had time to react, kissed her gently on the lips. She pulled back and looked into his face, searching his eyes.

"You're being selfish, you know…" Cath frowned slightly. Jake's face revealed complete surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"You expect me to give up being a cat just for you?" a tear fell down her cheek. Jake reached out his finger and wiped it away.

"You'd do that for me…?" He spoke softly. She paused and thought for a moment…she studied his face. Her mind was made up. She put her arms around his neck.

"Most definitely." A smile spread across her face. Jake grinned and lifted her up, bringing her face closer to his in another kiss.

………..

A/N: Utter fluff. But what would the world be without meaningless fluff?

It'd be nothing, I tell you.

Well, it'd be something…it would just be boring. Yes. I'm sure.

GET ON WITH IT! –fans clad in armor standing at the top of the hill shout at me—

Right. Righto.

R&R, friends!


	14. Spinning Tops

Well, hello faithful readers! Last chapter was just utter fluff, so I hope you don't mind if I add some more plot…I think I'd get tired of the fluff after a while. But then again, maybe not… enjoy.

Precarious Silence

Chapter 14

"Hermione!" a tap on the door brought Hermione and Ron to their senses. She motioned with her hands, and Ron moved to the other side of the bed. She got up quickly and unlocked the door.

"Yes, mother?" she put on a small smile.

"Oh dearest, your cheeks are flushed again…" her mother reached out a hand to touch Hermione's forehead, but she stepped back from her mother's outstretched hand.

"I'm fine. What do you want?" Hermione asked flatly, the smile fading. Her mother's face showed that she was hurt, but Hermione paid no attention.

"Well, I have to go to the church meeting tonight…so don't do anything unwise or brash. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, mother." She rolled her eyes slightly. Her mother gave her a small, sad smile before turning to leave the room. Hermione waited until the footsteps faded and the car had driven from the driveway before returning to the room.

"Before we go," she peeked over the bed at Ron, who was lying flat on his back behind the bed, "I'd like to take a shower. So, you stay in here and I'll go do that." Ron nodded. She walked around the room grabbing the necessary things before slipping through the door into the bathroom.

……….

Ron sat up and jumped onto the bed as Hermione disappeared into the bathroom. He surveyed the room. The walls were a pale green. They were completely blank. He noticed that holes still remained from where thumbtacks held posters to the walls. He jumped as the faucets squeaked in the shower. The water trickled. Ron blushed and tried to occupy his mind on other things.

He looked around at the bookshelf to see a tan notebook with the word "Scrapbook" pasted in messy, sequenced stickers. He walked over and picked it up. He jumped back onto the bed and opened it to the first page. "All About Me" was written in scribbled handwriting at the top. He surveyed the page. Ron chuckled at Hermione's baby pictures. _Simply adorable…_He grinned to himself and turned the next page. "All About Mom" bordered the left margin. The pictures showed a much younger, much happier looking woman holding a baby in her arms.

The scrapbook ended abruptly. A few pictures of her older sister Kathryn were thrown in haphazardly. He lifted the book and leafed through the empty plastic page covers. He stopped when his eyes fell on a single picture shoved into one of the last sheet covers. He pulled the book closer and surveyed the face of the man who was in the picture. He had the same amber eyes that Hermione had. His nose was much larger than hers, but he had the same smile.

He was lost in thought when the phone rang on the bedside table next to Hermione's bed. Ron quickly stood up.

"Um…um…" he looked from the bathroom door to the phone. RING…door, phone…RING…door…The phone stopped ringing and a loud beep was heard in the hallway He trotted to Hermione's door and listened over the stair railing to the answering machine.

"Hello Miss Granger," the cool female voice echoed in the hallway, "this is the local hospital. We're calling to inform you that your mother has been in a slight accident and has been submitted to our hospital. If you could please call our number, we will send an ambulance to pick you up and transport you to the hospital. Please call at your convenience. We will call with further information. Thank you, and have a nice day."

The answering machine beeped as the operator hung up. Silence filled the hallway. The only sound to be heard was the running water in the bathroom. Ron's mind swam with questions…"A _slight_ accident? What exactly does that mean?"

Hospitals are prone to lie. It could mean that she has a broken arm, or she could be close to death…

With this thought, he quickly ran back into the bedroom to inform Hermione.

……………………

Cath couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face when her eyes opened. The light was streaming in through the window and with it came the memories of the evening before…

She and Jake had stood on the porch for what seemed like eternity. Her lips tingled with the memory of the kisses they shared. They leaned against the balcony and stared at the moon, the conversations as meaningful as the silence they shared between them. When she yawned, he had insisted upon carrying her inside. The last kiss still burned on her lips.

A mingled smell of waffles and coffee reached her nose, bringing her back from her thoughts. Her stomach grumbled and she sat up and grabbed a robe before stepping out the door. Her feet moved soundlessly across the cold tiled floor and Jake did not hear her enter the kitchen.

Jake was leaning over the kitchen sink, his brows furrowed in frustration. She peered over the bar counter and watched as he scraped fruitlessly at the pieces of waffle on the waffle maker with a spatula.

"You know, there's an easier way to do that…" he jumped slightly and looked up. His expression softened when he saw her.

"I didn't even hear you come in…" she laughed and moved around the counter.

"That's because you're trying to make this job way harder than it has to be." she grabbed the spatula from his hand and placed it on the counter and picked up the scrubbing brush. She turned on the hot water, sprayed the dish soap on the waffle maker, and scrubbed away.

"See? Piece of cake. All you have to do is scrub, and scrub…." she paused as she felt something touch her neck. Chills went down her spine as she felt Jake's hand barely touch her skin. She placed a hand under the water and let a playful grin spread slowly across her face. She turned and splashed water all down the front of Jake's shirt.

"AH! Hey! What was that for?" she grinned and moved her hand in to splash more water on him.

"Oh, no you don't!" Jake grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from the water. He moved quickly and cupped one of his hands, splashing the water in Cath's face. She giggled with delight. But suddenly, as she felt the cool droplets run down her face, she felt the whole room tilt on its axis. She felt that she would soon lose her balance. She closed her eyes and put her arms out, the room spinning on the head of a pin.

"Cath?" Jake's voice echoed in the distance.

She stopped breathing. The room slowed its spinning like a wobbling top at the end of its monotonous twirls. Her senses slowly buzzed to life, and she found herself in Jake's tight grip. She opened her eyes slowly and tilted her head up to Jake's face. An immense pressure painfully presented itself behind her eyes and her nose. The pressure increased until she was sure her cranium would explode. Her vision clouded, and she went limp in Jake's arms. Her world turned black.

……….

"Your mom's been in an accident." Ron blurted the words out quickly as soon as Hermione emerged from the bathroom in fresh clothes, her hair still wet from the shower. He watched as her face paled slightly.

"Is she okay?"

"I dunno. The hospital called and left a message. They said they'd send an ambulance to take you there." Ron stepped aside as Hermione rushed forward and grabbed the phone, dialing frantically. He stood helplessly to the side listening to Hermione's words, anxiety filling his stomach with each word and change of expression on her face. She hung up the receiver and turned to Ron, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It's not good. They're going to send an ambulance to pick me up and take me there." she paused for a moment, looking down. Ron desperately wanted to reach out and wipe away the tear that rolled down her cheek. "I think it's best if you don't come."

"Hermione…" Ron took a step forward, and she took one step backwards, creating the same distance between them.

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be….I realized as I hung up the phone how…how horrible I've been to Mom. All she's wanted to do is help me, and what have I done to repay her? Speak words that mean nothing, push her away…and it's all because-because…" she paused and covered her face with her hands. Ron moved forward and put his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip around Hermione's shaking body, her wet hair soaking the arms of his shirt. She did not put her arms around him, but kept them folded, her hands to her face.

He felt her sigh and hold her breath for an instant. Everything went silent.

"I think it's best," the words were smothered into his chest, "if I don't see you anymore." Ron felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He released Hermione and stepped back.

"What?" it was barely a whisper. Hermione kept her eyes to the floor as she took her hands from her reddened face.

"You heard me." her eyes turned to his face, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Get out." he searched her eyes and found them swirling with emotions he could never comprehend.

He spoke to reassure himself. "You don't mean that…" _She can't mean it…_

Hermione's eyes flashed suddenly with anger. "GET OUT!"

Ron's legs moved before his mind told them to. He was soon running down the stairs and out the door. He ran until his legs could no longer hold him. His breath came in short gasps. Hermione's teary face swam before his vision, and her words still echoed painfully in his ears. He held back the tears with great effort.

_It feels as if I've lost my mother all over again…_

……………..

-Ahem- Happy Christmas, everyone… --three overripe tomatoes burst on my precious cranium-- GAH! Alright! I get the picture! The chapter didn't go as planned…--a cabbage leaf lands in my hair-- ALRIGHT, so it was horrible.

But really.

Can you blame me? I just spent the whole day driving nine hours to get here. And tomorrow I've got six _more_ hours ahead of me (riding the back of the car can be a tiresome thing…).

So here I am, tired, in need of re-packing, and I take my time to write and update, and what do you do?

BASH IT.

Yeah, yeah.

Christmas spirit my arse. --mutters-- ungrateful people…--dodges eggplant--


	15. Life Goes On

Hello.

To make up for the last chapter, I've decided to update…AGAIN.

Yes indeedy.

Now, _that_ should put you in the giving mood. --is suddenly mugged, wallet is taken, and all signs of sanity dissipating--

What is _wrong_ with you??!!

………

Precarious Silence

Chapter 15

………..

"Cath?" a soft voice tickled her ear. Light fluttered in as her eyelids opened slowly. Her whole body awoke slowly from the feeling of numbness that comes just after regaining consciousness. She was aware of a strong arm supporting her back and another tucked under her legs. Her face was leaning against a chest that moved up and down with each breath taken. She tried to breath through her nose but found that something soft was shoved against it. She opened her mouth in a desperate attempt to fill her lungs. Her eyes blinked, trying to focus on the world around her. A hand brushed against her cheek, and instantly her eyes snapped into focus. She looked into the face that leaned over her.

"Jake…" she whispered hoarsely. His rough face broke into a smile, his blue eyes filling with a look of ease.

"How are you feeling?" she paused and closed her eyes, paying attention to every sensation in her body. Despite the dull headache and stuffy nose, she was…

"Fine." she answered managing to smile slightly. "I just got dizzy."

"And a nose bleed." Jake moved the tissue that had been blocking her nose, and her eyes fell on the bright red splotches of blood that covered the white material. She suddenly pictured Jake having to wipe the blood from her face as it dribbled from her nose. She felt her face flush.

"I'm…sorry…" she whispered. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jake smile. She flicked her eyes to his face, and he attempted to hide the fact that he was smiling, but soon the laughter began to leak from the corners of his mouth. Cath felt her face continue to redden, but as embarrassed as she was, she could not help laughing at herself.

………

Hermione knew Ron was right. She really didn't mean for him to go…what had made her act so horribly? Her angry words echoed in her mind. She remembered how Ron had embraced her, just wanting to comfort her…

Now she had pushed both the people she loved at a distance, and one of them could be dying at this very moment…

She collapsed onto the bed in a fit of sobs. She cursed herself for being so selfish. She'd pushed Ron away because of her own guilt. It was definitely not Ron's fault that her mother was in the hospital, but at the time, she was angry and hurt and had justified her anger on something silly that she couldn't even remember anymore.

Her mind seemed to clear with each tear that fell on the quilt beneath her face. A memory played on the edges of her thoughts. She reached for it and grabbed it. In her mind's eye, she saw someone in the distance. A woman and two policemen, and she was rapidly moving away from them. If she had a remote for her thoughts, she would pause it and look at the image in front of her. The three figures stand next to a small, rundown cabin. It's fall. Leaves are tumbling to the ground. She does not need the zoom button as she quickly remembers what this picture is. This…was where she found Ron.

She remembered something from that day…something that frightened her. She could hear the sound of her mother's voice screaming at the officers to shoot. To shoot at the person carrying her away from them. _Ron…_

How insane her mother had sounded…but now she put herself in her mother's shoes. A boy is running off with her beloved daughter. Helpless, she tells the men to shoot…or did _she_ shoot the gun?

Any rational, thinking mother would have done anything to save their daughter's life.

_How foolish I am!_

A knock on the door caused her to jump up. She saw the red and white lights flickering in from the gray world outside her window. Clouds had quickly covered the sun while she waited for the ambulance. She had almost forgotten. She grabbed her coat and ran down the stairs.

…

The ride in the back of the ambulance seemed like eternity. Neither of the paramedics said a word to her. She preferred the silence, anyway.

Upon reaching the hospital, she was led to the emergency room. She seemed to walk in slow motion towards the drawn curtains around a bed. She watched as a nurse moved the curtain back, the silver hoops clanking on the metal bar as the cheap blue fabric was pushed aside. Her breath left her when her eyes fell on the figure stretched in the bed. She barely recognized her…

Her mother's face was badly cut, and a nasty gash slashed her cheek to shreds. Her arms were covered in scratches to the point where it seemed like someone had wrapped dark red yarn so tightly and thickly that no skin was visible underneath.

_Why doesn't she have any bandages? Where are her IV's? Where are the nurses?_

Blood covered the collar of her mother's shirt and seeped down past her bosom. Hermione had a sick feeling of dread in the bottom of her stomach. She watched her mother slowly, looking anxiously to see the signs. Just one sign. She watched intensely. The chest did not move at all. Hermione felt the tears fill her eyes. Her lip trembled. She closed her eyes and let the bitter tears fall down her face. No words could describe the pain she felt.

"Hermione…" her breath caught in her chest. She looked up. Her mother's face had turned towards her, and one eye looked straight at her, slightly unfocused. The other eye was swollen shut. Hermione lunged forward and grabbed her mother's hand.

"Mom…oh, I thought…I thought you were…"

"No. Not yet." Hermione winced as her mother took a painful breath.

"Don't say that! You're going to be okay…" Hermione's voice broke. She could not give up yet. There was so much Hermione needed to say. Her mother continued to look at her with an unfocused gaze. "Mom…I need to tell you that I'm sorry. I've pushed you away for so long. I've always pushed you away….and you have to get better because I want to spend time with you…I want…I want you…" Hermione broke into sobs and fell to her knees beside the bed, her head falling on the mattress. She looked up at her mother once more to see that her gaze continued to stare blankly into space. She stood up, crying hysterically.

"Don't give up yet, mom! Do you hear me? Don't give up! I'm sorry! Do you hear? I'll never stop saying it…never…I'll…" she stopped. Her mother opened her mouth as if to say something. Hermione moved closer.

"Tell….tell your sister…aaah…" her mother's grip tightened over Hermione's hand. "tell her I love her…" her words dropped to whispers. A moan leaked from her mother's pale lips, and her hand went limp in Hermione's.

"Mom? Y-you didn't hear me! I said…I said…nooo…" she fell to her knees again, cupping her mother's hand and pressing her face to it gently. She sobbed uncontrollably now. She let out a cry of utter sorrow before collapsing to the floor.

………

Ron let his feet guide him. His mind wandered where it willed. He was slightly surprised when he found himself standing outside Jake's enormous country home. A wind blew from the woods at the end of the hill and chilled his bones. He stepped onto the porch, moving slowly, without a purpose. He went to the door and found it open. He felt numb, empty, like his mind had been replaced with that of an unfeeling, unthinking robot. Mechanically, he moved to the kitchen. Two voices called out to him, but he did not reply. He moved to the empty dark hearth aware of only one feeling.

"Cold. So cold…"

………

_Hello darkness, my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again  
Because a vision softly creeping  
Left its seeds while I was sleeping  
And the vision that was planted in my brain  
Still remains  
Within the sound of silence_

In restless dreams I walked alone  
Narrow streets of cobblestone  
'Neath the halo of a street lamp  
I turned my collar to the cold and damp  
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light  
That split the night  
And touched the sound of silence

_And in the naked light I saw  
Ten thousand people, maybe more  
People talking without speaking  
People hearing without listening  
People writing songs that voices never share  
And no one dared  
Disturb the sound of silence_

"Fools", said I, "You do not know  
Silence like a cancer grows  
Hear my words that I might teach you  
Take my arms that I might reach you"  
But my words, like silent raindrops fell  
And echoed  
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed  
To the neon god they made  
And the sign flashed out its warning  
In the words that it was forming  
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls  
And tenement halls"  
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Hermione's CD player buzzed, telling her that the song and CD were finished. She sighed heavily. Why did she listen to this song? It carried so many painful memories…yet she couldn't help it. She pressed the repeat. She'd lost count after the seventh time.

"Would you turn that off and talk to me? I'm bored." Kathryn's voice cut through the beautiful instrumentation at the beginning of the song. Hermione sighed and hit the _off_ button. She supposed it was better to stop listening, anyway.

"You're the driver. You're supposed to be bored." tension had been high through the whole trip. Not a word was spoken for the first half hour (there was a reason she brought her CD player along…to avoid painful conversation). She hadn't seen Kathryn for over a month, and her feelings of bitterness had definitely not changed. Kathryn was the cause of most of her mother's unhappiness. _Change the topic, brain._ She tried not to think of her mother anymore than she had to. Everything happened so fast…only yesterday did she see her mother…at her last…_STOP THINKING!!_

"Where have you been, Kathryn?" Hermione was thankful for the flat tone her voice produced.

"You know I can't stand it here…so I left."

"Did you go with David?"

"…yeah."

"Oh." silence filled the car once more. "Fun." Hermione swore that she would be as emotionless as possible this whole trip. She didn't want to be with Kathryn in the first place, but she's all the family Hermione has left.

………

"How long has he been like that?" Cath spoke softly to Jake in the hallway outside the kitchen.

"A few hours…I can't get him to eat or drink anything, much less _talk._"

"Yeah, well I think it has something to do with--" she paused and peeked around the wall into the kitchen, staring at the back of Ron's head for a moment. She turned and whispered very softly, almost mouthed the word, "Hermione."

"I can hear you, ya know." Ron's voice echoed solemnly in the high-ceilinged room. Cath couldn't help herself any longer. She moved forward quickly. Jake tried to grab her hand, but she was too quick.

"Where's Hermione?" Cath spoke in a demanding tone. She felt that Ron had no excuse to act this way any longer. It had to come out some way.

"Gone." Ron continued to stare out the window into the back yard. Cath walked into his line of vision and kneeled down to eye-level with him.

"Where?" her face was very serious. Ron looked at her for a moment, and an emotion passed over his face, but was gone in the next instant, replaced with feigned indifference.

"She told me to leave. Her mom was in an accident. I bet she died." his face reddened, suddenly and he mumbled "…serves her right." Cath gasped and quickly reached out. _SMACK!_

Jake nearly jumped ten feet into the air. _Did she just _slap_ him?!_ Jake almost called out to reprimand her, but was surprised to see tears running down her face. He ran to her, but she continued to look at Ron. Jake followed her gaze. Ron's face was very pale except for the red mark Cath's hand had left. Jake watched as Ron's wall of indifference finally gave way and the tears spilled from his eyes.

"I'm sorry Cath. I didn't mean that…" he sobbed, words barely recognizable. "I just miss her…she's gone. She's left me…and I don't know if I'll ever see her again!" he reached out and pulled Cath into an embrace. Cath's voice was just as full of emotion as Ron's.

"You'll find her again someday. I _promise_…"

………..

THERE!

Ha!

There will be no vegetable or fruit throwing now.

I have done it.

Here is your _real_ Christmas Gift. The other chapter was just a stocking stuffer. --wink--


	16. Smiles and Melancholy

YAY! It's me again! Aren't you excited?

--crickets--

Yeah, well…you should be.

Anyway, I've been awful generous this Christmas season.

Please be grateful and enjoy these precious chapters…

Oh and uh…one more thing.

I have realized that Hermione's sister's name was originally **Kathleen**, but I, uh…_forgot_.

So now it's **Kathryn.**

You don't like it, **deal with it!**

--cough-- Pleasedonkillme….

Besides…isn't Kathryn a nicer name?

_I _ think so…

……

Precarious Silence

Chapter 16

……

"How much further?" Hermione's stomach churned as she watched the trees flash by.

"Lemme see…" Kathryn grabbed a piece of paper from the dashboard containing directions. "According to this, we should be there in about 30 minutes or so. Hmm. Hard to say." she tossed the paper back on the dashboard and continued to stare ahead at the busy two-lane highway.

Hermione sighed and stared ahead of her. Thoughts whirled in her brain and she suddenly felt the need to ask numerous questions. She just wanted to know the _truth._

"Why haven't we ever been introduced to Mom's mom before?" she looked over at Kathryn.

"Well…I don't really know all the details, but I think it had to do something with Dad."

"What about him?"

"I think Mom's mom…Grandmother…didn't approve of Dad." she paused for a moment, then continued, "I don't know. You'll have to ask her when we get there." Kathryn suddenly called out and swerved precariously onto the exit ramp. A few cars honked angrily as they were caught by surprise.

"IF we get there…" Hermione mumbled to herself.

…

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione and Kathryn were turning onto a long driveway that seemed to fade into the horizon. The fifteen extra minutes were spent driving past the correct driveway 3 times after turning around and arguing over whether it was the second road after South North St. or the third. They finally agreed that it was the third and turned into the driveway. As they topped the hill, both of them gasped simultaneously. The view was spectacular!

A quaint log cabin sat comfortably in the middle of a large and green field that stretched about half an acre around the house. A smaller building off to the side looked like a mini version of the cabin. Not only were the house and the mini house quaint and the field enormous, but also the forest that surrounded the whole field seemed to complete the whole scene.

The single gravel driveway led straight to the front door. Kathryn pulled off to the side next to an ancient pickup truck. Hermione looked over at Kathryn and worked up her courage. She suddenly felt very brave for the first time.

"Kathryn, I know we haven't always gotten along…" Hermione looked straight into Kathryn's face, noticing the look of apprehension, and hesitating before continuing. "But now that Mom's…that we're by ourselves, we're going to have to get along. We're going to have to struggle along _together_. Like truly close sisters should." she watched, startled, as a tear fell down Kathryn's cheek.

"Oh, Hermione…you have no idea how much that means to me. I have a lot to say, too. But most of all, let me say that I've grown up a lot in the past month. I can't take back all those miserable years that you had to spend with me while I was home…and Mom…What I'm saying is that I'm sorry." she looked up at the ceiling and wiped the tear away. "_God,_ if only mom could have heard me say that…"

"She forgives you. I'm positive." Hermione smiled as Kathryn wiped away another tear and managed a small smile in return. They held hands for a second, enjoying each other's company for the first time in their life spent together before they opened the car doors and stepped out.

"Ready?" Kathryn said, all signs of having cried disappearing with a grin.

"Yeah. I just hope she's not mean…" Hermione and Kathryn giggled as they walked up the wooden steps.

The door opened before they had time to knock. The face that greeted them was less than friendly. Silver-gray hair fell in thin wisps around a withered and wrinkled face. The places around the eyes had sunk in considerably, making the eyes seem very small. A thin bony hand rested on the screen door handle. Her dress was prim and proper, and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She looked at them both with disapproving glances.

"You're late." the voice was surprisingly sweet and slightly musical. Hermione and Kathryn looked at each other nervously. Kathryn spoke up first.

"We're really sorry, we got lost and--"

"Dah, I'm just kidding." the lady's expression changed completely, and so did Hermione and Kathryn's expectations for their grandmother. "I don't give a damn whether you're late. I'm just glad you're here!" Hermione and Kathryn both burst into laughter as the tension was broken. "You should've seen the looks on your faces!" the wrinkled face broke into a wry smile as she opened the screen door and let them both in.

"I know we've never been introduced, but my name is Marie. Call me Marie or Gram or Grandma…or whatever you like. 'Hey you' is alright with me, too." She hugged both Hermione and Kathryn in turn. "Now. Did you get lunch on the road? No? Well, then, come on in. I've got leftover meatloaf in the fridge."

As she turned, Hermione looked at Kathryn and a single thought passed through both of their minds…

_I like her._

………

Cath felt guilty. Well…only slightly guilty. Here she was having fun…while Ron sat inside and moped. But the guilt didn't last very long as Jake swept her off her feet and carried her off the porch. As the sun hit her face, all thoughts of pity for Ron seemed to fade, and nothing mattered but _here_ and _now._ Jake. That was all that mattered to her at present.

"Ah…it's a beautiful day." Jake sighed with pleasure and sat down, setting Cath gently in the grass beside him. She looked over and watched as he turned his face up to the sky, eyes closed, a small smile playing on his lips. He looked so…different from when she first met him. "Of course…" he opened his eyes and looked at her playfully, "it wouldn't be as pretty if you weren't sitting there in the grass looking so…" he moved as he was speaking, lying on his stomach and propping his head on bent arms, elbows disappearing in the grass. "looking so…" he was still searching for a word, but then he paused, his expression changing.

"What?" she moved to lie on her stomach as well, putting her head level with his.

"Have you noticed anything different about you lately?" Jake's expression was serious.

"No…" she chuckled. Was this a joke? But he looked so serious…

"Your eyes. The color doesn't change anymore." he pulled one arm from the grass and lifted it to her face, brushing her cheek. Her heart seemed to skip a beat. She was bothered by this fact…but she didn't want to show it. She leaned closer to his face, opening her eyes wider.

"What color are they now?"

"Kind of a…gray." he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Gray?"

"Yes." Jake lifted one side of his mouth, but didn't smile all the way.

"What kind of gray?" _Men are terrible at describing colors…_

"Well…a…grayish…gray…" he squinted his eyes at her.

"Grayish gray?" she laughed. "What kind of description is that?"

"It's good enough for me. I only know my primary colors." Jake's face broke into a smile. Cath laughed, rolling onto her back.

"Gray isn't a primary color, Jake!" she grinned, forgetting why she had felt uneasy earlier as Jake crawled over to her and leaned his head closer to hers.

"It is in my book." Cath didn't have time to grin before Jake's lips covered hers.

……

"You're Kathryn…and you're Herman, right?" Marie pointed to both of them in turn.

"It's _Hermione_." Hermione corrected.

"Ah, well…your mother's handwriting is illegible as I'll get out." she studied each of the girls before her and watched them stuff the meatloaf into their hungry mouths. "Good, ain't it?" Kathryn and Hermione nodded, mouths full. Marie tapped her bony index finger to her temple and winked at Hermione. "My secret recipe."

There was a long pause before anyone spoke.  
"I'm sorry about your mother." Marie lowered her voice. A tense silence followed. Hermione dropped her fork on her plate by accident, causing Kathryn and Marie to jump in their seats.

"Great day, child! Calm down!" Marie criticized Hermione only half-heartedly as she clutched a hand to her heart dramatically. She changed the topic and continued. "Where do you two want to sleep tonight? I've got one guest room in this house and then we've got that quaint little guest cottage out back. Which is it?"

Kathryn and Hermione both shrugged their shoulders.

"I'll take the cottage." Hermione spoke out quickly before Kathryn even opened her mouth. Kathryn looked at her curiously but then turned to Marie again.

"I guess that leaves the guest room for me."

"Right. Well, you girls finish up your dinner and I'll go get the beds ready." She smiled slightly as she stood up slowly and left the room.

Hermione waited until she heard the front door close before turning to Kathryn, eyes lit with excitement.

"She's better than I thought she'd be…"

"Yeah," Kathryn chuckled. "We got lucky."

………

I can't stand it any longer…Ron stood up, restless from lying in bed all day. He nearly ran out the back door seeking some fresh air. He needed to get his mind off of…things. He didn't even want to say her name, much less think it. He was risking it just thinking the word her.

He sighed and willed his heavy legs to move as the sunlight bit into his skin painfully. He walked around the wrap-around porch to the front and sat on the rickety swing. Laughter reached his ears, and he looked out in the field to see Cath and Jake enjoying each other's company. _I refuse to be jealous._

He watched as Jake stood up and gracefully swept Cath into his arms and walked down the hill out of sight. _Damn…_

Ron's heart fell in his stomach as a painful memory stung at the back of his eyes. He pictured himself as Jake and Hermione as Cath, like it had been once on a sunny day like this. Ron's head hurt from thinking too much. He bent his head back and closed his eyes, picturing every detail of Hermione's face.

_I wonder what she's doing right now…_

………

Hermione stepped out onto the porch after having put her dishes safely away in the dishwasher and saying goodbye to Kathryn. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air and listened closely to every sound. The trees blew in the breeze with a calming _swiiiiisssshhh_…. She opened her eyes as the creak of rusty metal reached her ears. She turned and her eyes fell on the wooden porch swing. It seemed so inviting, so she sat down and swung back and forth, seemingly in slow motion.

She let her eyelids close slowly. A picture played in her mind, and a pang of sorrow reached her heart. She saw Jake's house with tall white gables and large windows that glinted in the sunlight. She saw the wrap-around porch that overlooked the whole field. She saw two people walking down the steep hill, but her eyes were drawn to the porch. She felt as if she were a bird, flying in closer to the house, the roof growing larger by the second. Her imaginary bird feet collided with the railing that surrounded the porch, and there before her, sitting on a porch swing, was Ron. Oh, how she missed him…  
……………   
Well, well, well.  
I must say, this chapter has its ups and downs.  
Gimme your opinions.  
I'm STARVING for opinions!!  
Ok, not opinions…reviews.  
So give me some or I'll starve and then you won't have any more chapters to read.


	17. Hollow

HII!

Yeah. It's me.

Want to know why I actually have time to write?

IT'S THE WEEKEND!

AAH! School is insane. Completely and utterly insane.

MADNESS!

THEY'RE SUCKING OUT OUR BRAINS!!

IT IS THE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEND!

ALL WILL FAI---ahem-

Need I say more?

I think not.

Read on, friend, and please, do enjoy. I tried.

**Disclaimer: I don't own the names of Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger. Kudos all go to J.K. Rowling. She owns them...but I own their OOCness. Get it? Got it? Good.**

…….

Precarious Silence

Chapter 17

……

"I feel dizzy…" Cath's world spun in front of her.

"Me too." Jake laughed, and Cath felt his arms grip her tighter as he slowed his spinning. "Whoo…" he plopped to the ground along with Cath. She chuckled and closed her eyes, waiting for her brain to stop rotating. It didn't seem to want to slow down…_but it must…because it will._

"Cath?" the voice was far away.

"I don't…I'm dizzy…real…real…she opened her eyes and the world spun even faster. It was as if she were on a carnival ride that wouldn't stop. She's screaming, but it won't stop…_screaming…_

"Cath!"

Blackness.

…

"RON!" a distant frantic voice brought Ron back to his senses. It seemed he had been dozing on the porch swing…which was not very comfortable at all. He opened his eyes and was about to stand up and stretch, but his eyes fell on the approaching figure. He jumped to his feet and leaped off the porch. It only took a few seconds for them to meet, each with long strides, though Jake took longer with the person he carried in his arms.

"What's wrong?" Ron panted. Jake gasped for air, unable to speak. Ron didn't really have to ask…he saw her. Cath's face was very pale. Her face was almost white…and it contrasted strongly with the red, red blood that streamed from her nose. Without a word, Ron turned and led Jake back into the house, quickening his pace with every step.

Once inside, Ron pointed to the couch and Jake obediently stretched Cath across the cushions with grace. Ron fetched a damp hand towel and handed it to Jake. He watched with mixed emotions as Jake wiped the blood from Cath's pale face with such tender care. Jake could not suppress the expression of complete infatuation from his bright blue eyes.

Ron waited for what seemed like eternity in the lounge chair, and the whole time, Jake sat on the floor and never took his eyes from Cath's face. Ron's head threatened to fall against his chest as feelings of utter boredom, exhaustion, and slight depression all combined and took their toll on his body. It was one sound that finally broke the silence: a murmur from Cath's pale pink lips. Ron perked up and watched as Cath's eyes fluttered open.

"Oh…" she looked at both Ron and Jake with a dazed expression. "What…" she saw the bloody towel in Jake's hand. "Oh." her face retained its blank expression. There was a pause before her lips pulled into a tight smile that did not reach her eyes. "Just another dizzy spell! I'll be ok in a while…" she stood up before Jake could stop her. "I just need…" she was wobbly on her feet and nearly toppled over. Jake caught her wrist and pulled her back down onto the couch.

"You're staying right here." his face revealed his determination, and Cath did not resist, knowing it was useless.

Ron stood up, uneasiness creeping over him as Jake and Cath linked hands. He quickly fled to the guest bedroom and plopped onto the bed. He fell into a restless sleep with strange dreams, and in each, a familiar face showed itself and refused to retreat from his memories.

………

"Well, bed's made up in the other house, so go on over whenever you feel free." Marie nodded at Hermione and walked into the living room. Hermione glanced outside to see the rapidly darkening sky as the sun passed behind the ridge of mountains. She sighed and walked into the living room.

Marie sat in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace. Hermione stopped in the doorway as a peculiar smell reached her nose.

"What's that smell?" she took a few steps into the room and looked around. "Is there a gas leak somewhere?"

"You smell it too? Well, darnblast it. It's these darn gas firelogs. They ain't worth the price I payed for 'em." Marie set her knitting needles in her lap and stared at the fake-looking logs that were surrounded by a few spouts of flame. "Not very homely, are they?"

Hermione stared at the logs and noticed that the fireplace was empty of any ashes. The fire did not crackle and send off sparks like a normal fire did.

"Why did you have to get them?"

"Well…we hadn't gotten the chimney sweeped in a long time, so I guess it built up. It got so clogged that it started a chimney fire. I up and ran out the doors and the flames was a good four feet out the top of the chimney! The whole yard was filled with smoke. We was both afraid the house would catch fire. And my poor Jacob was running around the yard and he was wheezing and coughing. Lord, I was afraid he was gonna die." Marie's eyes lit up as she spoke, looking into the fire and reminiscing.

"Where's Jacob now?" Hermione spoke softly, feeling like she had no business asking.

"Oh, he's long since dead. He died…" she looked up, calculating. "ten years ago tomorrow."

"Oh." Hermione fell silent.

"Go on, now. Ask why." Marie kept her eyes fixed on her knitting. "I know you're just dying to know."

"Ok, why--"

"Emphizema." Marie interrupted before Hermione even finished the question. "He had a terrible case of it. T'doctors said he wouldn't live to be fifty if he didn't stop smoking. But no, he kept on chuggin'. Lived to be the ripe old age of eighty-two, and smoked a pipe, too. Ah he loved his pipe…but it was the death of him eventually. It was soon after the chimney fire. Maybe a month or so. He just sort of…dwindled away till he died with dignity while he was asleep." she paused and closed her eyes, letting her hands take over the monotonous motion of the knitting needles. "Best way to go. Peaceful-like." she slowly nodded, eyes still shut. "That's how I'll go someday…" she sighed deeply and her hands stopped moving, falling into her lap gracefully. Her breathing deepened as her head lolled backwards to rest on the cushions of the lounge chair.

Hermione sat there for a while…just watching and enjoying the soft sound of Marie's breathing. She herself felt exhausted. The peacefulness of Marie's slumber seemed to drift across the room with every breath that leaked from her grandmother's thin lips. Hermione studied how frail Marie was. She seemed dried up like a prune; juiced until there was nothing left but the skin. Marie's bones jutted out at the joints almost painfully. She had obviously lived a hard life. She looked frail and completely drained. Hermione's heart ached for her grandmother. _Will I end up like this? Will I be left alone for ten years to sit in front of a fake fire and knit?_ Hermione reflected on how both her mother and her grandmother's spouses had died. Would this be her own fate? She thought about her mother and her unhappiness…and looked at Marie, wondering whether she felt the same.

With a pang in her heart, she suddenly recognized similarities to her mother. The dignified, high cheek bones…the nose…the tight, thin lips; all her mother's. With a jolt, she saw something in Marie of herself. The silver hair that was pulled back into a bun was now escaping and fell in fluffy strings across a pale cheek. The firelight suddenly reflected against the escaping frizz, and Hermione smiled.

Studying complete, Hermione finally let her eyes close and felt sleep overtake her.

………

She forgot where she was for a moment…but then she heard deep heavy breathing in her ear…_against_ her ear. Cath opened her eyes and found herself in Jake's arms. His body sank deeply into the couch cushions giving him enough room to rest his head against the back. His arms encircled her, one under her bent legs and the other behind her back. Her legs itched to move, uncomfortable after innumerable hours in the same position.

She slowly eased herself into an upright position and propped her hands on the couch cushions, pushing herself onto her feet on the cushions. She wobbled dangerously on the soft cushion before she quickly stepped over the arm of the sofa and plopped onto the hard floor. She glanced at Jake to find him fast asleep, not even aware that his arms were currently empty. Cath stretched her aching legs and moved unsteadily towards the bathroom. Her goal was the toilet, but she was sidetracked by something in the mirror…her own reflection.

Cath's breath was nearly stolen by the shock she felt…at how pale her face was. She looked closer, studying every wrinkle that now appeared on her face. Smiling wrinkles that surrounded each side of her mouth like parentheses. Laughing wrinkles spread like crows' feet from the corners of her eyes. Two lines now formed themselves between her dark eyebrows. Her normally round face seemed longer somehow because of the slightly sunken in cheeks. Cath noticed the dark circles that fell beneath her eyes. And her eyes…that was what disturbed her most of all. She blinked at herself in the mirror and moved closer. The color did not change at all, but remained the same dull, cloudy gray. _I wish I were a cat…_ She closed her eyes and let the tears fall down her pale face, almost hating the skin they rolled across so gracefully.

…

Jake yawned and lifted his arms, stretching. He paused for a moment, confused. Why wasn't he holding anyone? He opened his eyes and moved to stand up, wondering where Cath went. But as he sat up to move a sound stopped him.

"Mreeaaw." he was suddenly aware of a slight weight upon his legs. Looking down he discovered a black cat staring up at him with the brightest neon blue eyes.

………

"Get up." Hermione flinched and opened her eyes, startled. Marie was leaning over her wearing a freshly ironed dress and a simple apron. "Breakfast."

"Oh." Hermione rubbed her eyes, still slightly groggy. Marie turned and walked into the kitchen. Hermione observed her surroundings. The log fireplace was off and Marie's knitting needles sat neatly on top of a whicker basket beside the lounge chair. Hermione stood up and nearly tripped over the quilt that fell from her legs. She picked it up absentmindedly and moved into the kitchen, stomach growling as smells of eggs, bacon, and fresh pancakes reached her nose. She plopped into one of the kitchen chairs and looked out the window.

"Where's Kathryn?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"That's what I'd like to know." Marie said, flipping a pancake onto a plate and handing it to Hermione. "Someone came to the door this mornin' round three. I wasn't asleep. I don't sleep well, 'specially in that lounge chair. I didn't wanna get up, and I knew it wasn't for me. Sure enough," she paused as she set a glass of milk, a fork and a bowl of maple syrup in front of Hermione, "here comes Kathryn and she opens the front door all quiet-like. I took no notice, but by the sound of her voice and their talkin' it must've been her lover."

Hermione choked on her milk. "David's here?"

Marie turned, a smile on her face. "Yes, I suppose that's his name. I wasn't formally introduced. I had to get up and help them unlock the dadblasted door (that darn lock is so stubborn), so I suppose I wasn't in the best of moods. I never sleep well, you know, and I might have scared him…he did seem a little wary of me this morning…ha" she turned to Hermione again, "Why, don't like him?"

Hermione kept her eyes on her pancakes. "Don't know him. Well, not _personally_..."

"Ah, well then you can get to know him whenever they get back."

"Where did they go?" she looked up, trying to keep her face as blank as possible.

"No need to look so jealous my dear," she walked over and patted Hermione's hand, "it's quite normal for younger sisters. They went out for a hike around eight this morning and it's about…nine thirty-five right now."

"So…what did they um…where did David…?"

"Between three a.m. to seven thirty they slept." Marie always answered Hermione's questions before she had them out of her mouth. Hermione waited for more of an explanation, but it never came. Marie looked at her for a second, and then she leaned closer, her eyes widening. "_In separate beds._"

Hermione felt a great weight lift itself from her shoulders. Marie eyed her wearily as she made her way to the sink.

"So, are David and Kathryn very close?" Marie concentrated on the dirty dishes, pretending not to be interested.

"Close?" Hermione choked down a large bite of bacon, "they're practically like a married couple. The only reason they slept in separate beds while they were here is because they were just being polite." she kept her eyes fixed on the scrambled eggs, feeling her face burn. Her sister talked constantly about David, and the thought of them…together…was just such a strange thing for Hermione to swallow. She'd never met the guy…but Kathryn chatted about him so much that Hermione knew things about David that she never would have dreamed of knowing. She was glad to know that Kathryn had saved at least some shred of Hermione's dignity by not sleeping in the same bed--…_Wait…_

"What bed did David sleep in? Kathryn slept in the guest bedroom…and he probably wouldn't have slept on the couch… or your bed…so…where?"

"The only other bed is in the little cabin." Hermione's ears burned. A man she had never met slept in the bed intended for _herself._ "I'm sorry dearest," Marie continued, "but you weren't sleeping in it and you looked so comfortable on that chair. And don't be embarrassed. I don't mind in the least if the two lovebirds sleep together."

Hermione winced at the word _lovebirds_…"You don't, but _I do._"

Hermione had a right to be resentful towards this anonymous boy. He was the reason Kathryn left. She left for him and caused her mother so much pain…

"We're back!" the front door closed loudly. Hermione's stomach tightened. Why was she so nervous? She was only going to be introduced to the reason Kathryn abandoned the family. _Yeah. That's nothing to be nervous about…_

"Good morning, Hermione." two arms wrapped around her neck, and she turned around to see Kathryn's flushed, smiling face. She smiled back tentatively and peered around Kathryn's head.

"Oh yeah…um…this is David." she stood up and Hermione nearly fell out of her seat. Green eyes smiled back at her underneath black hair that stuck out at odd angles. The tall figure loomed above both Kathryn and the frail, shrinking Marie. The t-shirt seemed to engulf his slim body. He had a thin, wiry look to him, but altogether he didn't look so bad.

"Nice to meet you, Hermione. I've heard so much about you." his sincere smile reached his emerald eyes with charm. Hermione reached out a tentative hand and grasped his, maybe a little _too_ firmly.

_Not so bad? Hell, he's gorgeous!_

Hermione put herself in Kathryn's shoes. Would she have left home for this boy? She watched attentively as Kathryn sat down and David put one hand on her shoulder, almost protectively. _Yes. I definitely would have left home._ Her mother's anguished face flashed across her mind. Instantly, a knot formed in her throat and tears formed at the edges of her eyes.

"Please excuse me for a moment…" Hermione stood up quickly and nearly bolted into the living room and out the front door, tears streaming down her face. _I'm a shallow, cold-hearted girl…superficial…_She toppled onto the soft futon as soon as she entered the little cabin. She looked around and her eyes were drawn to one object almost instantaneously…the bed. It was still unmade from where David had slept in it. She imagined him laying there, his black hair against the silk white of the pillows.

_What am I doing? David is Kathryn's. Kathryn has David and I have…well…_

Red hair. A familiar face surrounded by red hair. His face slowly came into focus in her memories. Had she forgotten already? She'd kissed the boy numerous times. She'd told the boy she loved him countless times, and yet she kicked him out of her life forever. The tears fell onto the throw pillow she clutched in her arms.

_I feel like I have nothing left to give…I'm all out of love. I'm empty…and until he comes, I won't be whole again._

………..

Right.

Yes, well.

Sorry this one was a little depressing. I had a rough weekend.

So I had to work on this on and off…that's why it's a little choppy.

**FOR FURTHER REFERENCE: David does not represent Harry Potter nor will he EVER represent Harry Potter. Does he have a lightning scar on his forehead? I think not. Is he wearing glasses? A Hogwarts robe? NO! So there. He's not Harry.**

**Ok ok…so he does have green eyes and messy black hair…but I'm running a little low on creativity this weekend. **

**But can you blame me?**

**I mean really…**

**To auditions in one weekend does kind of drain you.**

This will be my last update for a while, so please review and enjoy. I mean, read it again if you please. And then review again. That's just how it goes.

Right.

School time tomorrow.

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day everyone!

(And just for that, I deserve an extra review. Yes indeedy.)


	18. Finding Solutions

My friends, I dearly DEARLY apologize. Utterly and truly.

The last chapter was more of a filler…and I apologize, again.

You can agree with me, because it really did sort of…well…STINK.

I hope this chapter will satisfy all your cravings (if you have any…which I hope you do…because…yeah.)

If you don't like this chapter, DEAL WITH IT (because it may very well be the last…)

Please refrain from flaming.

Instead, why not send some useful, gentle advice, eh?

Yes. Ideas for the next story/chapter, perhaps?

Onward, friends!

Oh, before I forget...

**Disclaimer**: Ron and Hermione belong to J.K. Rowling, but I have control over their OOCness, mmkay? Yeah.

………

Precarious Silence

Chapter 18

………

Sun beat down on his back as a cruel wind snapped his thin shirt. He stood in the middle of an endless field, broken only by the lines of fences stuck into the ground. Trees lined the edge of the field far off in the distance.

_Where am I?_

Ron scratched the back of his head, confused. He turned in a complete circle. He was the only thing taller than these fences for at least a mile. He stopped suddenly as his eyes fell on a figure. He squinted in the sunlight, trying to focus his eyes on the distant form. He recognized something about it…about _her_…The face was turned away, but the long frizzy hair that blew in the wind gave her away. Ron's mouth opened and he shouted, but the words seemed to blow away with the fierce wind. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted with all his might.

"Hermione!" She turned and looked at him, and Ron's heart beat quicker. Before he could say anything, she turned quickly and ran. Ron opened his mouth to shout, but knew she wouldn't hear. He picked up his legs and used his longest stride possible, knowing he'd soon catch up with her.

But it seemed that every time he turned a corner in the maze of fences, thinking he would soon be no less than ten feet from her, she would be farther off in the distance in another branch of this winding maze. He stopped, catching his breath. Ron could feel the determination brewing in his bones as Hermione's figure rapidly shrunk in the distance. He took a deep breath and felt a tremendous burst of energy. His legs pumped until they seemed they were only a blur. He hopped each fence that got in his way, and all the while he kept his eyes fixed on the person ahead of him.

Soon, his long stride and determination, one or the other, led him closer to Hermione. She could not escape him now…

Ron's chest burned and every muscle in his body vibrated. He was now just within arm's length of Hermione…she was so close…He reached out his hand, calling out her name once more. His arm caught her shoulder, and suddenly everything stopped. He was standing stock still, his hand pressed against Hermione's shoulder. He watched in slow motion as she turned. Her face was flushed and tears, or sweat, poured down her cheeks. Her eyes met with his, and his heart beat quickly in his chest. She opened her mouth slowly.

"Ron." her voice sounded strange…muffled.

"What?" he said, longing to hear her voice as it was, as he remembered it. He wanted to keep his hand on her shoulder until she felt _real_ again.

"Get out." her tone changed, her face remaining blank and emotionless.

"What…?"

"You heard me…" She shook her shoulder and took a step towards him, her eyes glaring in the sunlight. "GET OUT!" she suddenly collapsed onto the ground. Ron knelt beside her and turned her so he could see her face.

"Hermione…?" the eyes were blank, expressionless, the lips pale. He put his ear close to her mouth…no breathing. "No…this can't be…"he shook his head, pulling Hermione's body into a tight embrace. He took a rasping breath, "NOOO!"

…

Ron sat up in bed with a start, the words still echoing loudly in his mind. He put his hands up to his ears, trying to smother it…her voice…his scream. Once the sound subsided, Ron let out a sob he had been holding in. He looked down to see that his shirt was completely soaked.

_I need to get out of here…_

Ron jumped out of bed and threw some dry clothes on before bolting out the door. He stopped in the hallway as the smallest sound reached his ears. He listened closer…and there it was again, slow and steady. Breathing. Ron tiptoed to the end of the hallway to peak around the corner into the kitchen. Jake was fast asleep, his head lolling back onto the couch, mouth open.

_How _does_ the man sleep so much?_ Ron peered over the arm of the couch and nearly cried out, for there on Jake's lap was a mass of black hair…Cath? He listened closely…and yes, he could hear it. _Purring. _Ron shook his head, promising himself he'd think about it later. He had other things to attend to.

Ron stepped out the front door into the sunshine, any lingering fears from the dream faded as the wind, cool and cleansing, washed over his body and dried his sweat-soaked hair. He closed the door silently behind him and leaped off the porch, letting his legs guide him down a familiar path he'd taken not so long ago.

………

Hermione opened her eyes and quickly wished she hadn't as the sun poured into them mercilessly. A splitting headache spread across her forehead and to the back of her head and throbbed uncomfortably. _What a rude awakening…_She sat up slowly, putting a hand to her head to prevent it from exploding. She hated crying…as relieving as it was emotionally, it completely drained her physically and left her feeling ill. She felt refreshed from a deep, dreamless sleep, but the headache still throbbed and her throat hurt from crying. She stood unsteadily and caught her balance on the arm of the futon. Her eyes were drawn painfully to the bright world outside the window. She peered through the curtains and smiled slightly, letting her arm fall to her side as she closed her eyes.

_It's time to let go…_

………

Ron stepped onto the porch, an eerie sense of dread filling his insides. He knew he shouldn't be here…but he had to. His eyes focused on the front door. He remembered running here, all the way from Jake's house and kissing Hermione on this very porch. He shook his head, trying to erase the memories. He glanced at the door and knew that it would be locked. He had no hope of getting in unless he wanted to break in, and that, of course, would be wrong. Ron sighed and resigned himself to the porch swing. He sat there in momentary bliss, his mind no longer troubled by thoughts. He would stay here forever, if he could…

……….

Jake yawned once more and looked down at Cath who yawned in response, revealing her cat fangs. She stretched her legs with a shiver and opened her bright blue eyes up at Jake. He smiled down at her, rubbing the soft black fur behind her ears. She purred softly. Jake's stomach growled and Cath looked up, as if to smile at him with her cat face. He chuckled to himself and set Cath on the floor before walking into the kitchen. He grabbed a muffin and cut a third of it off and gave it to Cath. She munched on it as gracefully as she could without lips.

"Where's Ron?" Jake said after swallowing a large bite of the lemon poppy seed muffin.

Cath looked up after finishing her portion of the food, licking her lips. She moved silently on her paws out of the kitchen. Jake finished his food and followed after her.

"Mrreaaaw." Jake stopped, almost tripping over Cath as she stopped in front of the guest bedroom. Jake looked in the room and found it empty.

"Where could he have gone, Cath?" all was silent. He looked down to find Cath gone. "Where'd you--" an irritated cat growl reached his ears from the front door.

"OH, sorry." He opened the front door carefully, grabbing his shoes before they both stepped out the door. "Lead the way." Cath leaped off the porch and Jake jogged behind her the whole way.

………

Hermione stepped inside the cabin only to find that everyone had left. She found a note on the table.

_Herman-- _(Hermione chuckled. It seemed she had a nickname now.)

_We've gone out to the grocery store to get some food for this evening and we're also going to the library later. Kathryn says she has her cell phone, so call if you need to. We'll be home later this evening. Help yourself to leftovers in the fridge._

_Marie_

Hermione sighed. She was disappointed that she would miss a trip to the library, for she always enjoyed books, but then her eyes were drawn outdoors again. She smiled, knowing that she wouldn't regret not going with the rest of the family. There was so much she had to think about…

She laced her shoes tighter and grabbed a decent walking stick she found behind the house. She strapped the backpack to her shoulders and groaned as one of the water bottles poked her in the back. _I'll deal with that later…_She let her eyes travel up the mountain all the way to the top, where a humongous rock rested at the top of the steep, leafy slope. It looked out over the whole valley. That was her goal. And she would reach it, no matter how long it took.

…

She breathed heavily and looked behind her to see the trail she left behind. She hadn't imagined the trek up would be so difficult, but the soil was loose, and she'd fallen many times. She looked down at her pants and laughed at the dirt stains that appeared all over them. The rock was merely ten yards away from her, and she used the trees for assistance to cover the last distance to her goal, grasping onto the thin trunks of saplings to haul her self up.

"Whew…" she breathed heavily after she heaved herself atop the mossy rock. She took off her pack and drank some water, closing her eyes to the sunlight for a moment while she caught her breath. A cool breeze dried the sweat on her face and on the nape of her neck. She looked down at her wrist and found a hair holder she'd forgotten about. Hermione quickly pulled her hair back in a ponytail and sighed as her neck cooled in with the breeze.

She opened her eyes and gasped, for the view was spectacular. The bright yellow sunlight gleamed on the green grass that swayed in the wind. She could see as far as the mailbox at the bottom of the slight hill in the driveway. All was calm and oh so peaceful…

Hermione breathed in the fresh air, feeling it as it cleaned each part of her body. There was a nagging sense of an empty feeling in her stomach…something missing…but for the moment, she felt almost full again. Her senses sparked to life, and her stomach growled. She smiled and pulled out the peanut butter sandwich she'd made for herself, enjoying the sticky goo as it coated the back of her throat. She was content, yet she found that even with the view, the delightful peanut butter, and her senses alive again, tears escaped from her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She was bewildered…her feelings were so scrambled. She forgot, for a moment, which was up and which was down…and whether she was breathing or not.

But then a revelation…she swallowed the bite of food in her mouth, and realized…that today was special somehow. She searched her memory…a birthday! It was someone's birthday today. Whose?

Not her mother's…nor Kathryn's…so…Hermione laughed outloud. Her own birthday! How could she forget? The laughter faded as she looked around her, realizing something. _I'm alone…on my birthday._

………

"Cath…" Jake gasped, realizing just how out of shape he was. "Wait up!" the black cat ahead of him slowed her pace and turned her head, green eyes glaring at him, irritated. Jake stopped and caught his breath for a few moments before he stretched his legs into a long stride to catch up with the prancing cat. Jake slowed to a walk as the house came in view. He had never been here before…but he guessed whose house this was by the expression on Ron's face. His eyes were dull and dark circles lined his eyes heavily. He stared out towards the field with a glazed over expression.

"Ron!" Jake called out as he came closer to the front steps. Ron seemed to snap out of his trance as Cath pounced into his lap, purring and pushing her head under Ron's hand. Jake stepped onto the porch and walked closer to Ron who petted Cath with a glint forming in his eyes with every stroke of the black fur.

"Ron?" Jake paused, standing in front of Ron.

"Help me." Ron looked up with the same glint in his eyes, but a pitiable expression on the rest of his face. "Help me find her."

Jake paused, thinking it over. He suddenly pictured himself in Ron's place, desperately longing for and missing the one woman he loved. He looked down at Cath who curled gracefully under Ron's outstretched hand, and slowly, he nodded.

"Yes. I'll help you find her. Where do we look first?" Ron stood suddenly, Cath complaining with an irritated yowl as she landed on her feet with a _thump._ Ron grasped Jake's hand and shook it hard.

"Thank you…"

…

After much trial and error, Jake, Cath, and Ron were able to make it into Hermione's house through her upstairs window, which was still unlocked.

Ron paused as he stepped into Hermione's dark bedroom. Most of her things were boxed up and set in the corner, and some had fallen over spilling the contents on the floor, a sign of a moving company's failed attempts at organization.

Ron bolted towards one box in particular. _Photos and papers_ was written on the side in scrawled and almost illegible handwriting. He pulled it down from the top of the stack of boxes and placed it on the floor, ripping the tape off and throwing it aside. Jake stood by the window, still holding Cath in his arms, and stared at Ron, bewildered.

"There have to be some contact papers in here of close relatives she could have moved in with." Ron pulled out stacks of photos and set them to the side. He lifted out wads of tissue paper that were originally there to cushion the picture frames. He grabbed papers and threw them behind him haphazardly. Jake took a cautious step forward, avoiding the items that Ron tossed in the air. He kneeled by the pictures and set Cath down in his lap, sitting cross-legged. He grabbed a handful of pictures, talking to himself as he glanced through them.

"Let's see here…oh this must be Hermione. My, she was an adorable baby." Jake chuckled to himself and set the picture down so Cath could look. He thumbed through numerous baby pictures and others…until he came to one in particular. "Hello…I think I've found something." Ron stopped suddenly and leaned over Jake's hand eagerly. "It looks like a picture from a funeral."

Ron took the picture and stared at it. It was of Hermione as a much younger girl, maybe five or six. She stood next to her mother, father, and sister. The father had one arm around the shoulders of his wife, and his other arm was wrapped around the thin shoulders of what looked to be his mother. He flipped over the picture and written on the back was a scribbled list of names. _Me, mom, dad, Kat, and Granny Nell at Granpapa's funeral._

"Granny Nell? I think I saw something in here…" he set the photo down and pulled out a pamphlet. He read the front aloud. "In memory of Vivian Anellia Granger. Well, I guess that rules the parents of Hermione's father out."

"Wait, here's something…" Jake pulled a black book from the top stack of boxes he'd opened. "It's an address book." he flipped it open and thumbed through the pages. "Granny Nell and Grandpa…nope. There's only one more entry and it's her own address…this house, I think."

"Well that was helpful…"

"Do you think the mother would have anything? Maybe she kept an address book…" Jake glanced down at Cath as she rubbed her whiskered face against his hand. Jake picked Cath up in one arm and stood, moving towards the door.

"I'll stay here in case I find anything else." Ron threw all the photos back in the box he'd opened and stood up to grab another. Jake nodded and stepped into the hallway.

Ron thumped the heavy box onto the floor and pulled the tape off using his fingernails. His eyes fell on the numerous pictures that were filled to the brim. Ron glanced at the side of the box. The side read _Mother's_. Ron sighed and sifted through stacks of meaningless photos. He paused as his eyes fell on one picture….

A smiling girl danced with a handsomely dressed man. Both were handsomely dressed. He flipped over the photo and read the back: _Dad and I at the "Dad Daughter" dance." _It was a recent picture taken maybe a year ago. His eyes studied the girl who wore a long, flowing sky blue dress. _Hermione…_She looked so happy, her arm wrapped around her father's neck, one hand clasped in his white-gloved hand. She was smiling, her eyes sparkling delightedly with childish excitement. Ron clutched the picture to his chest, letting the tears fall down his face silently.

"We found it!" Jake stepped into the room eagerly and stopped in front of the crying Ron. "You okay?" Ron nodded and wiped the tears hastily.

"What'd you find?"

"The mother's address book. There's one other entry. It's sort of faded…but I think I can make out the address. It's for a Marie Granger who lives in Virginia."

Ron stood, his heart fluttering. "Let's go."

…………

**Me**: OK ok…so I lied, this isn't the last chapter. But I had gotten to 11 pages and hadn't finished…so why not just create more suspense and make you wait longer---

**People**: -chuck cabbages onto the stage--

**Me**: HEY! Do you want two more chapters, or DON'T you?

**People**: -crickets chirp-

**Me**: That's what I THOUGHT! Now, if you'd let me explain…I WAS going to get it uploaded by -cough- last weekend -cough- But my schedule has just NOT allowed.

**People**: Schedule? What schedule?

**Me**: Oh hush. I actually did have a rough week, thanks for asking. I was in the orchestra pit for the Music Man all of last week _and_ this weekend…it's a rough job, not being on stage, but someone has to do it. All that playing…and yeah…but the rehearsals _were_ 3 hours long, so you can't blame me for not getting it uploaded.

Ok, so you can, but that's up to you.

Anyway, why am I blabbering?

**People**: Yeah, stop that! No one cares--

**Me**: Yes they do.

**People**: No they don--

**Me**: Shut up and review.


	19. END

Hello dearest dear of friends…

And, yes, you are that dear to me.

I apologize for the last chapter.

I read it again…and…found that it was simply a filler, once more.

-sigh- I try hard, but I just end up disappointing readers and myself, mostly.

I'm slightly discouraged right now.

It's probably a mixture of exhaustion and the absence of someone dear to me…

Oh well.

Whatever it is, I hope you'll forgive me for it.

Yes.

Please attempt to enjoy this chapter. I'll try extra hard this time…I won't let you down!

And that's a promise.

''Poo

And as usual….

**Disclaimer: **Ron and Hermione's names belong to J.K. Rowling. She is more creative than I and shall remain so. However, I do own Ron and Hermione's OOCness, ok? Yes. Very good. Glad we got that covered. I can move on with my life.

………

Precarious Silence

Chapter 19

………

Ron's heart beat quickly as Jake turned into a gravel driveway and stopped next to the mailbox. Jake rolled down the window and wiped the dust off of the faded stickers on the side of the mailbox. He glanced down at the black address book in his hand.

"Yup. This is the right one." Jake rolled up the window and put the car in drive.

Ron clutched his knees nervously and stared down at the floor, not wanting to get his hopes up too high. His eyes fell on a pile of papers that Jake had grabbed and placed in the car at his feet. He reached down quickly to grab a paper from the top. It was a birth certificate. Hermione's birth certificate. Ron's eyes widened as his eyes fell on the date. _That's today's date!_ He was determined. he would definitely have to find her today, no matter what. Ron placed the paper back on the floor and stared out the window, barely breathing as they topped the last hill in the driveway.

"Look, there's a car. Maybe they're home." Jake parked the car next to the rusted old pickup truck. Cath jumped into Jake's lap gracefully and turned her pale blue eyes to the truck just outside the window.

"Mraw."

"Yeah, you're right." Jake stroked Cath's head absentmindedly as he looked across Ron at the defunked vehicle. "That car doesn't look like it's been used in about fifty years."

Ron let go of his knees, finding that he'd been clutching them with white knuckles. He rubbed his sore wrists and barely breathed, as he felt the disappointment weigh down on his lungs.

"Well, um…" Jake said after a pause, "I'm no detective, but it looks to me like this house might not even be occupied…" Jake glanced at Ron, slightly afraid of his reaction.

"That can't be true…we've come so far!" his anger was explosive. He flicked the door handle and found it locked. "Let me out."

"But…where are you going to go? I will not allow you to break in--"

"Just unlock the door."

Jake didn't argue, but just hit the unlock button without a word. Ron threw the door open and jumped out, slamming it shut behind him.

"I'm worried about him, Cath." Jake stroked her soft fur, Cath looking up at him with responsive yellow eyes that showed the same anxiety he felt.

………

Ron stepped into the sunshine, anxious to get out of the stiflingly silent car. He observed his surroundings. To his right stood an ancient, yet proud cabin that was weathered and worn from age. He refused to let himself believe what Jake said. He turned his eyes to find himself facing a mini cabin. It must have been built at the same time, he observed, for the same wear and tear seemed to be worn into its dark brown wood.

"Ron!" Jake's voice brought him back to his senses. "A car is coming up the driveway!" Ron turned quickly and ran towards the car, standing beside Jake, who held Cath in his arms.

A silver car pulled in a few yards away from them. The driver, a tall young man with dark hair, stepped out of the car and waved amiably at the strange trio before him. A shorter girl about the same age stepped out of the passenger side, and Ron noted how similar to Hermione she looked. _Her sister and…_ A frail woman stepped out of the back seat and met Ron and Jake with a critical gaze. She walked over briskly and stood in front of them, pride showing through every worn feature on her face and through every wrinkle on her withered arms and legs. _Her grandmother._

"May I help you?" her voice was surprisingly pleasant despite the hard expression on her face. The younger man and Hermione's sister moved slowly from the car towards Hermione's grandmother and soon stood to the side, holding hands and studying the newcomers.

"Um, yes. We're looking for a Hermione Granger." Jake spoke up first. The old woman looked from Jake to the cat in his arms and then to Ron.

Her sharp eyes rested on Ron as she asked, "What might your business be?"

Jake looked at Ron who opened his mouth to speak, finding that he actually had no explanation for their surprise visit.

"We, uh…" Jake stuttered.

The old woman sighed, and let her eyes wander past Jake and Ron towards the cabin. Her eyes focused on something in the distance, and an expression passed over her face for only an instant. Ron finally spoke up to get her attention once more.

"We wanted to surprise her on her birthday, so we dropped by to--"

"Well it doesn't matter," she cut into Ron's words, "because she's not here." Her eyes moved past Ron's face again to that distant spot she had focused on before. Ron opened his mouth to speak, knowing that it was fruitless. The woman was obviously lying, and she kept looking…_what _is_ she staring at?_ He moved to turn, but the woman grabbed his arm, turning to him with sudden anger.

"I know who you are. You're that boy…the one that kidnapped her." Ron turned, bewilderment filling his facial features. "Oh, don't act surprised, boy. Her mother wrote a letter to me telling me everything about it. She dictated the words to a nurse with her dying breaths. And she wouldn't have died if you hadn't taken her daughter from her!" her eyes lit up maliciously. Ron took a step back, wrenching his arm from her grip.

"That's not true…her mother died in an accident. And I didn't…I didn't kidnap her! She came willingly--"

"We'll see about that!" The woman grabbed his arm and stepped in the direction she had been staring earlier, yanking him along behind her.

"Marie!" the sister protested loudly.

"Ron!" Jake called out, his voice sounding further and further away.

"Where…" Ron asked, panting in the effort to keep up with the surprisingly fast old woman.

The woman didn't answer, but kept her face forward, tugging him closer and closer to the foot of a mountain. His eyes searched the slope and he gasped as his eyes fell on a figure.

He stopped suddenly, wrenching his arm from the woman's grasp and ran at full speed towards the mountain.

"HERMIONE!" He called out with all his might. He kept his eyes focused up and managed to trip, twisting his ankle. He looked up, and saw that she hadn't moved. His thoughts filled with his nightmare once more…of the expression on her face as she lay in his arms. He buried his face in his arms, trying to block out the memories and catch his breath at the same time. _Had he come this far, finding her, to fall and be afraid?_

……..

Hermione jerked awake suddenly. She couldn't remember what had awakened her, and she couldn't remember for the life of her how she had fallen asleep. Her eyes stared unseeing out to the horizon as she remembered…

She had hiked tirelessly up the mountain slope, stopped to rest on the rock and ate her sandwich, and she guessed she must have fallen asleep soon after she had stretched out to look at the clouds. She sat up, slowly, her whole body aching. Her eyes fell suddenly on the figures that now scattered themselves in the valley below. She saw an extra car in the driveway. She recognized her sister and David, but one person had his back to her…and she couldn't recognize it. A black form dropped from the unknown man's arms, and suddenly it clicked. _Cath…Jake…if they're here, then that means…_Her eyes moved closer to the bottom of the slope, and she saw Marie moving quickly towards a stretched out figure in the grass.

She knew that hair…she would know it if she were almost _blind._

"RON!"

The figure lifted his head and she sprung from the rock, nearly somersaulting down the hill. It was like a slow motion scene in a romantic movie as the two figures moved closer together, Hermione stumbling down the hill and Ron limping towards the slope.

She left all her dignity behind her as she ran most ungracefully towards the tall figure she barely knew, but loved with all her heart. She pulled her arms from the pack on her back as she ran, tossing it aside as Ron and Hermione finally met in each other's arms.

"Hermione…" Ron whispered in her ear, as he gripped her tighter. "don't ever leave me like that again." His step faltered and she felt him tighten, wincing. She let go of him, reluctantly, and stepped back.

"What's wrong?" His face was serious, and twisted slightly in pain.

"It's nothing…just twisted my ankle running. He hopped to the other foot quickly, but a little too quickly, and he fell down on the ground with a _thud._

"Ron!" she leaned down and examined his swollen ankle.

"I'll be fine." he sat up, folding the uninjured leg under himself and stretching out his swollen ankle on the grass in front of him. Hermione reached for his hand and grasped it tightly. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but she was unable to let the words pass her lips. She knew, she _hoped_, she would have time to do so later.

Just then, she saw four familiar figures running towards them both. No wait, _five._Her eyes caught the black shadow of a cat, Cath. Cath reached them first, being the swiftest and smallest.

"Oh…" Hermione's heart fluttered at the sight of another familiar face. Cath jumped into her arms and nuzzled her chin with her warm, furry face. Hermione closed her eyes, cradling the cat in her arms. A soft step caught her attention, and she opened her eyes.

"So I guess my question is answered." Marie spoke firmly, almost scolding. "It seems I was wrong about you." she turned to Ron and let a small smile cross her face for a moment. "But I don't understand…" her face resumed it's scolding expression. "Your mother was so specific in the letter she sent. She was positive you'd kidnapped her…"

Ron shook his head.

"No, he took care of me. I was injured and he took me in, and well…I guess…" she turned to Ron, "when I got better I didn't want to leave when my mother came." she turned to Marie again. "I love…loved…my mother, it's just that she was so beastly at the time that--"

"Hermione!" Jake's figure ran up to them quickly. He bent over, attempting to catch his breath, but kept his eyes focused on her. Not a word passed his lips, but Hermione knew from the silly smile on his face that he was glad to see her.

Marie looked disapprovingly at Jake. "And I suppose he took care of you, too?"

"It's sort of a long story, Marie…"

"There's time later." she said and turned away, walking slowly back to the house and meeting Kathryn and David along the way. Hermione watched as Marie ushered David and Kathryn into the house along with her, leaving Hermione to catch up with everyone. She smiled to herself, watching the three distant figures disappearing. Cath purred insistently in her arms. She looked down, tears forming on the edges of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry…" she looked up, hesitating. "I shouldn't have left you…it's the last thing in the world I wanted to do." she locked her eyes with Ron's. He sat up, trying his hardest not to move his ankle and reached for her hand, taking it gently in his own.

"It doesn't matter now. We're here." he smiled faintly. Hermione looked down wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her other hand.

"We need to treat your ankle. You're hurt." She stood, pulling her hand from his grasp and wrapping her arms around the protesting Cath. "Jake will help you inside." She turned and left without a word.

…

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked Jake, staring at the retreating figure. Jake shrugged in response and helped Ron to his feet. They made slow and painful progress but soon reached the front porch of the large cabin. Marie stepped out the front door carrying a towel, a throw pillow, and an ice pack.

"Set there on the swing and we'll elevate your foot. It's a nice day outside, so I'm sure you won't mind." Ron nodded and hobbled over to the porch swing.

After his foot had been properly elevated and iced, Marie left and returned with a tray that contained a bowl of steaming soup and glass of milk. Ron thanked her awkwardly and then was left alone as both Marie and Jake proceeded indoors. Marie returned once to take his tray, and yet again he was left alone.

He leaned his head against the chains that held the rickety swing to the eaves of the porch. He closed his eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep. He was awoken by a soft sound.

"Ron." His eyes snapped open to see Hermione leaning over him holding out a large chunk of watermelon. "I brought you some. Marie just cut it." Ron took the watermelon without a word, and she turned to leave.

"Wait, Hermione. Stay with me." she paused at the doorknob and turned around, nodding her head and moving to sit on the front steps. Ron pushed the ice pack and towel off of his foot. His ankle didn't look too swollen, so he stood up and limped over to sit next to Hermione.

They both ate their watermelon in silence, and after a while, Ron finally spoke, irritated at the silence.

"What's wrong?" he turned and looked at Hermione. She swallowed first, and then turned to look at him.

"I…" her eyes started to fill with tears once more. Ron resisted the urge to wipe away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. "I just can't forgive myself for telling you to _get out_…" she looked down. "And leaving you without a goodbye or--" Ron reached over and pulled her face towards his, kissing her on the lips softly.

"_I forgive you…_" he whispered, emphasizing each word. Hermione smiled, her cheeks flushing. "Oh, and I almost forgot…"

"What?" he leaned in and kissed her again.

"Happy birthday."

………

Jake yawned and stretched his arms, setting his book down on the floor. He put his arms behind his head and crossed his ankles, stretching to his fullest length on the couch bed that had been unfolded for him earlier by Marie.

"Mraaw." the black cat curled up on his stomach protested lazily.

"Yes, I know…I just can't help myself. I get tired every time I lie down anywhere and--" he paused to yawn once more. "I wouldn't mind taking a nap after the hard, long day of driving, wouldn't you?" Cath purred in response. Jake smiled at her, and she smiled back in the way that only cats could, by squinting the eyes, and maybe even pulling the mouth back into a contented cat-grin. Jake let his eyes close lazily, his hand resting on Cath's small, furry back.

Cath waited and watched his face, continuing to purr softly. She waited until his breathing had slowed until she slipped from under his hand onto the bed cautiously. She stretched out beside him and concentrated…_human…human…Come on, stupid magic, work!_

The purring had stopped. She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at her fingers. She smiled and moved closer to Jake. She grabbed his hand softly, locking her fingers with his, and placed her head against his shoulders. It wasn't long before she herself was asleep.

…

Jake awoke once, and only briefly, confused. The weight was gone from his stomach…and a sound was missing…the purring. He opened his eyes and flinched as he saw the woman beside him. His mind turned it over more than once before his tired mind finally clicked. _Cath…_ Every muscle in his body seemed to relax.

He leaned down and kissed her pale forehead before letting his head fall back onto the pillow with a smile on his face.

…………

-sigh- I just don't know what to say.

I will say that this chapter was hard to write, for some reason.

I will also say that I am not pleased with it.

I will most definitely say that it deserves lots of reviews (good and bad.)

WHAT YOU SHOULD DO NEXT:

(follow all directions carefully.)

1. Review.

2. Review again.

3. Press the arrow button on the right of the drop-down list and read the Epilogue.

4. Smile, and enjoy the cliché ending.

5. Review.

6. More than once.

7. Ok?

8. Ok.


	20. Epilogue

**Claimer**: This ending is totally mine (however cliche or cheesy it may be).

**DISclaimer**: I don't own Ron and Hermione's names (sadly).

**Warning: This is the last chapter, hence the title--EPILOGUE**.

………

Precarious Silence

EPILOGUE

………

A few months later, David and Kathryn were married in David's hometown church in Virginia. One month after their honeymoon, they moved to Florida and rarely kept in contact with Hermione or Marie. They eventually had a few children, but Hermione and Marie never found out until three years later in Kathryn's rare letter sent at Christmas. She always mentioned in every letter that she would never forget neither Marie nor Hermione, and that she would always love them both. She always gave some excuse or other as to why she hadn't written in two years, but Hermione and Marie never paid attention, knowing that Kathryn was simply just too busy with David and the kids.

……

Cath and Jake were married one year after Kathryn and David moved away. They decided to have a simple wedding outside Marie's cabin, since Cath had no relatives, and neither did Jake. They considered Ron, Hermione, and Marie just as close as family. They remained in Jake's old house, but always came to visit Marie every weekend. Jake and Cath accepted the fact that they would never be able to have children of their own because of Cath's shape-shifting. She was never able to stay in one form, cat or human, more than two weeks before becoming ill. The time frame grew less and less as she aged. Nevertheless, Cath and Jake never ceased to enjoy each other's company and never stopped loving one another wholly and deeply. Cath aged a little faster than Jake, and they were only married forty-five years before Cath passed away. Jake refused to leave her side until she had passed, and even then, he died right by her side. Ron and Hermione refused to grieve, knowing that Jake and Cath had loved each other so completely, that they would meet again in death.

……

Ron and Hermione were married two years after Cath and Jake's marriage. They spent those two years in between living at Marie's house and tending to her increasing needs with age. They also spent the time learning more about each other, and finally becoming fully acquainted. They were also married outside Marie's cabin. Marie lived long enough to see her first great-grandchild, Brian, grow to the age of two. And even until the day she died, she was just as stubborn and determined as she had been her whole life. Marie was buried beside her husband's grave in a family cemetery somewhere in Virginia. Cath and Jake's deaths happened about forty years later, and they were also buried in the same cemetery.

Ron and Hermione continued to live in the cabin and had another child soon after Marie's death. Ron and Hermione remained faithful to each other for seventy years until they both died at the ripe age of ninety. They both died peacefully in their sleep. Their life together would be told numerous times as bedtime stories to anxious and imaginative youngsters, and each time, it would end with the same line:

"And they all, Marie, Jake, Cath, Ron, and Hermione, lived together both in life and in death as best they could, whether silent, or stubborn, whether cat or human, beloved to the end (David and Kathryn excepted)."

THE END

…………

Ugh. I think the cheese is leaking out my ears.

**Please review.**

I love you all! Muchly! Thanks for all your support, and please give me some advice on this ending…I just…anyway. What's done is done!! Thanks, again. Much love!

(and don't forget to review).


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